No Such Thing As The Bogeyman
by honey0023
Summary: Parents the world over claim there is no such thing as the Bogeyman, but when one child learns the horrific truth, will Sam and Dean be able to save him before the Bogeyman comes for him?
1. Naughty Boy

Chapter One: Naughty Boy

Dundee, Michigan

Mitch Halloway sat calmly at the table dressed in his Sunday best, watching his wife pace the kitchen. The woman who was a good fifteen years his junior, looked dazzling in her little black cocktail dress despite the anger that she radiated. "I'm just going to call Shelly." She said, glancing at the clock on the microwave, "If we hurry, we may still make the play."

"How is he going to learn if you bale him out again?"

"He's doing this on purpose. If we stay home, then he's successfully ruined our evening and that's exactly what he wants. Either way, he wins."

The irate woman plopped down at the table and rubbed her throbbing temples. "I just don't know what to do with him anymore."

Mitch quietly stood and placed his hands firmly on the back of his wife's neck. She released a soft moan as he rubbed away the gathering tension. His hands stilled on her shoulders and he brought his lips to her soft skin. "Karen honey, we don't have to leave the house to have a wonderful anniversary."

Mrs. Halloway's eyes sparkled as her husband's hands found their way around her waist. "Jeremy's in bed already. There's champagne in the fridge. One quick phone call and we could have some excellent take out to go with it. You're the only thing I wanted to do tonight anyway."

"Mitchell!" Karen laughed as she playfully swatted her husband.

Their eyes locked and their lips met in a passionate kiss, which they held until the cause of their stress burst through the back door. Brent was disgusted at the sight of his mother kissing that man and slammed the door shut behind him in protest. Mrs. Halloway rose to her feet stepping between her son and the stairs to his bedroom, with her arms folded tightly across her chest. "Where in God's name have you been? You were supposed to be home over two hours ago."

Brent's eyes barely made their way to his mother's before he rolled them. "I was out."

"You promised you would watch your brother and now your father and I have missed our dinner reservations."

"He's not my father."

"Well I'm your mother and since you don't seem to respect my time, I'm not going to respect yours. You're grounded for a month."

Brent scoffed at the reproach. "You can't ground me. I'm going to do whatever I want anyway."

His attitude made his mother's blood curdle in her veins and she slapped him sharply across his left cheek. The boy was truly startled by his mother's actions and found himself without a sarcastic comeback. Mrs. Halloway fought back her tears of frustration and lowered her voice. "Your father and I are going out and we'll be back late. Your brother's in his room, make sure he gets to sleep at a decent hour."

Brent watched his mother put on her jacket. "He's not my father!" he yelled once more after the door was shut.

Brent released a sigh of anger as he watched the car back out of the driveway. He activated the security system and grabbed a soda before heading up to his room. Once upstairs, he heard talking coming from his little brother's room. He peered through the crack and shook his head when he saw his little brother talking to the corner. He kicked the door open all the way with a loud thump that startled the smaller child. "Talking to your imaginary friend again?"

"Boogey's not imaginary."

"So he has a name now? It's a pretty lame one."

"Shelly likes it."

"No she doesn't, its dumb. She just said that because she feels sorry for you because you're so stupid."

"She did not. She wouldn't lie to me. She's nice."

"She's a bitch. Hot, but a bitch."

"I'm telling mom on you."

"Go ahead. She's not gonna believe a kid who named his imaginary friend Boogey."

"I call him Boogey because he lives in the closet just like the boogeyman."

"Is he scaaaarrryyy like the boogeyman?" Brent said, pushing his face close to his younger brother's. "Does he rip little kids apart and eat them like the Boogeyman?"

"Stop it Brent! You're scaring me and Boogey doesn't like it when you're mean."

"Whatever freak." Brent laughed. "Mom's gone so I'm in charge and I say you have to go to bed now and stop talking to nobody."

Brent flipped off the light in Jeremy's room and laughed when he became upset. "Wait Brent, you forgot the night light!"

"Don't be such a wuss."

Jeremy climbed into his bed and heard Brent lock his door. "What if I have to go to the bathroom?"

"Hold it." Brent called through the door.

Moments later Jeremy heard the door to Brent's room slam shut and the low hum of rock music seeped through the wall that the two bedrooms shared. He looked around the dark room and pulled his covers over his head when the closet door creaked open. "I don't want to play tonight Boogey." He cried.

Jeremy heard a familiar laugh, but tonight the voice had a sadistic quality to it that sent chills up his spine. "Please go away. My brother scared me and he wouldn't turn the light so I can't play with you tonight."

Jeremy came out from under the covers and looked over at a tiny pair of glowing yellow eyes peering from inside the dark closet, and he pulled the covers back over his head. His breathing increased and panic took over when he heard a faint evil voice begin to whisper just on the other side of the covers.

"Baby, baby, naught baby,  
Hush! You squalling thing, I say;  
Peace this instant! Peace! Or maybe  
Boogey will pass this way."

Tears streamed from the frightened child's eyes as he lie paralyzed beneath his sheets. He moved not a muscle and made not a sound until he heard his closet door creep shut. He closed his eyes as tight as he could, but he couldn't shut out the voice that haunted him. "Baby, baby, naught baby, Hush! You squalling thing, I say; Peace this instant! Peace! Or maybe Boogey will pass this way."

Jeremy listened to the silence for a moment then instinctively continued the nursery rhyme.

"Baby, baby, if he hears you  
As he gallops past the house,  
Limb from limb at once he'll tear you  
Just as pussy tears a mouse…"

As he whispered the morbid tale he heard the sound of his brother's tortured screams ring through the wall. He listed to the cries unable to move or call out for help. The terror in his naughty brother's voice crept into his soul and rendered him helpless. Fear became the only thing he could see or feel, while the screams, along with the evil cackling of a twisted monster danced around vividly in his brain.

All at once the screams stopped and total silence took over with the slamming of a door. The cries were scary, but the silence was worse, much worse. The traumatized child lie in his bed, shaking violently in a puddle of his own urine and began subconsciously repeating the last verse of the rhyme.

"And he'll beat you, beat you, beat you,  
And he'll beat you all to pap:  
And he'll eat you, eat you, eat you,  
Gobble you, gobble you, snap! snap! snap!"

A/N The nursery rhyme isn't mine. I found it on line here…


	2. Playmates

**Chapter Two: Playmates**

Cleveland, Ohio

Sam Winchester sat quietly at a table in a crowded bar, scanning news websites on his laptop. A look of intrigue swept across his face as he read a story about a missing child. He looked up and was not surprised to see his older brother standing at the bar surrounded by beautiful women. How Dean always managed to find the most beautiful girls that didn't mind sharing his attention, or why he would want to spend the night with all of them at once was a mystery to Sam, but right now there was a bigger question that needed answered.

Dean's eyes lit up when he saw his brother calling him over and he ordered an extra beer before making his way across the room. "Here you go Sammy boy, drink up." He laughed as he placed the pint in front of Sam. "Or better yet, put that stuff away for the night and join us at the bar."

Completely ignoring his brother's request, Sam turned the laptop to face Dean. "Check this out. Mike Reynolds, five years old, went missing in plain sight 4 days ago in the middle of a crowded park."

Dean looked back at the group of anxious women with a killer smile, barely paying Sam any attention. "Kids get snatched from the park all the time. Doesn't mean it's our kind of thing."

Sam shook his head as he took a swig of the beer in front of him. "But get this, his mother had him on the jungle gym and she says he went into one of those tube slides and never came out. And, he's the 6th kid to disappear in broad daylight from that park this year."

Dean thought for a brief second, but his eyes wandered back to the bar and he resisted the mystery. "Alright, that sounds a little creepy, but it was 4 days ago. It can wait one more day. But you know what can't wait, is the group of playmates over at the bar."

Sam didn't hesitate to vocalize his frustrations with a dramatic sigh. "Do you ever think with your upstairs brain?"

"Playmates Sam, six of them! In town for some convention and in need of some locals to show them around."

"Let me guess, we just happen to be tour guides."

Dean smiled wickedly. "Better, we're indie film makers doing a documentary on the wonderful Cincinnati nightlife."

Sam couldn't help but laugh as he shook his head. The lack of scruples his brother sometimes displayed never ceased to amaze him. "So pack this stuff up man because I promised we'd interview them over drinks."

"I am not going along with this crazy scheme Dean. No way."

"PLAYMATES!" Dean whined. "As in even you could probably get some for once. And trust me man, you need it."

Sam glared at his brother but the dirty look only seemed to amuse him. "Forget it man. I'm not going, and neither are you. If we leave now, we could be in Cincinnati in 4 four hours and still get some decent sleep tonight."

"You gotta lighten up man. I'm thrilled that you're hunting with me again, but all work and no play makes Sam a dull boy and you're not that exciting to begin with. Dude, I'm putting my foot down this time. We're staying and you're gonna take that sexy little blonde over out and you're gonna have a good time for once in your life."

Dean winked at one of the women that had been watching Sam with eager interest. She giggled and blew a kiss at Sam, who in turn patronized her with a weak smile before shooting his brother a look of death.

Dean was about to push Sam across the room when his phone rang. He curiously answered the unfamiliar number and when Sam realized that he was talking to some female he went back to reading his article. It wasn't until dean said, "No, actually I was just kind of looking for something to do…" that Sam became interested in the conversation.

Not many things could deter Dean from a wild night with a bunch of playboy playmates.

Sam watched in shock as Dean regretfully excused himself from the women and waited for an explanation as Dean returned and began packing up the laptop, but all he said was, "Change of plans."

Finally, when Dean pulled his beautiful 1967 Chevrolet Impala onto the highway, Sam could no longer take the suspense. "Are you going to tell me what's going on? Where the hell are we going?"

"Detroit."

"Detroit?"

"You know, The Motor City, Motown. Home of the Red Wings, Henry Ford and most importantly the legendary Alice Cooper."

When his brother was done being a smart-ass, Sam forced him an agitated smile. "Thank you for the history lesson. You want to tell me why we're going there?"

"Possible job."

"What happened to all work and no play?"

"Well Sammy-"

"Sam."

"You were right. Saving lives is more important than women."

"Uh-huh. Who is she?"

Dean attempted to hold a hurt look, but smiled when he knew he was busted. "Only the most perfect woman on the planet. Smart, funny, dangerous, and smokin' hot!."

"Uh-huh. And how does she know you?"

"Us." Dean corrected, "You know her two. You remember Dad's old friend, Mitch Halloway? He had a daughter about your age."

Sam's eyes narrowed as he sifted through memories. "Shelly?" he asked with wide eyes.

"I know." Dean laughed after seeing the look on Sam's face, "I thought she was kind of a dog back then too, but man was puberty ever good to her."

"Dean!"

"What?"

Sam shook his head deciding not to argue exactly what was wrong with that statement, and then it donned on him. "Dean? How does she know what we do?"

"Mitch helped Dad and I on a job a couple years back and Shelly came a long for the ride. Actually, took over is more like it. She blasted that demon back to hell on horseback while eating a banana and m&m Sunday." Dean smirked at a memory. "I'm tellin' ya baby brother, this one is easily worth six playboy playmates."

Sam was truly speechless, but laughed at the giddiness of his brother nonetheless. "So what kind of a job is it?"

"I don't know. She said her step brother disappeared."

"Stepbrother?"

"Yeah, apparently her dad remarried a year ago; some lady with two boys. "She said the older, punk teenager one was supposed to be babysitting the younger one but when they got home he was gone and whatever happened freaked the little one out so much they had to put him in the hospital."

"No idea what happened?"

"Not a clue. Cops are calling it a runaway but the alarm was still activated and the six year old can't even reach it, much less turn the damn thing on."

"What makes her think its supernatural? I mean teenagers run away all the time, especially when they have a new family to deal with all the sudden."

"You saying you don't want to go?"

"I'm just saying maybe the cops are right this time. And if it's just some kid angry at his mom for getting remarried, maybe we'll be of more use in Cincinnati."

Dean glanced curiously at his brother. He was surprised by the hesitancy that was present in both his voice and his body language. "What's wrong with you Sam? You know we've checked out less, and these are friends."

When Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair Dean's curiosity turned to concern. "Is there something going on I should know about?"

"No." Sam said quickly but with a hint of sadness in his voice, "It's just, well, the Halloways, and Kansas, and growing up the way we did. I've tried so long to put that past behind me. I just don't want to go digging it all up again." 

Dean shook his head in utter disappointment. "You're such a little bitch sometimes."

Sam sat back in his chair and turned his attention to the window looking hurt just enough to make Dean feel bad. "You gotta ditch the baggage Sam, I mean it. It's your past that makes you who you are. You shouldn't forget it, and you shouldn't resent it so much."

"You don't understand."

Its rare to see Dean Winchester get upset over anything, but lately Sam was getting to be a pro at making it happen. Though he couldn't always say it, Dean lived and breathed for his brother. With their parents dead, and a life on the road, Sam was truly all he had left in this world. He felt a certain responsibility for him, a special connection. If anyone in the world understood Sam, it was Dean, and he hated that Sam wouldn't let him in. "I don't understand? Right. Because I didn't lose my mom too. And I didn't spend my childhood taking care of your sorry ass while dad was off on trips. And I didn't give up a life to help dad find the thing that killed mom. No you're right. I don't understand at all."

Unlike Dean, Sam can really be Mr. Sensitive. Though he honestly believed that his brother would never fully understand completely how he felt, he knew that Dean tried his best. No one on the planet could make Sam feel guilty the way Dean could either, and nothing was worse than knowing he'd hurt him. "Dean, I'm sorry. It's just that I-"

"Hey." Dean said, quick to end the touchy-feely crap, "You know the rules, no chick flick moments."

Dean kept a face that could have won him a poker tournament, but Sam still knew that the apology, however incomplete, made Dean feel better. "Yeah whatever." He smirked leaning his seat back, "Just wake me up when we get there."


	3. Bogyphobia

**Chapter 3: Bogyphobia **

It was nearly midnight and all was quiet in the small hospital room. Shelly sat at her stepbrother's bedside reading a pamphlet on a disease known as Bogyphobia. The passing hours were finally causing her eyelids to droop despite the discomfort of the hard plastic chair she was sitting on, and with a heavy sigh she rubbed her tired eyes forcing them to stay focused.

As she continued to read up on the diagnosis the doctor's had given her, the cupboard door beneath the sink across the room slowly unhinged itself. Shelly heard the tiny creek it produced and looked up. She noticed the cupboard was cracked open but thought nothing of it and went back to her reading.

Once the unsuspecting woman was focused again and all was quiet the cupboard door silently fell fully open. A pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared in the darkness beneath the counter. A sudden chill filled the room and Shelly could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the evil eyes rested their gaze upon her. She felt his stare and looked up again, but the glowing eyes had vanished. For a brief instant the open cupboard struck fear in Shelly's heart but she looked down at the paper in her hands and laughed it off. "Come on Shell, the bogeyman?"

Shelly laughed again and put the pamphlet down on a small night table. She crossed the room and closed the cupboard making sure it was securely fastened. After a big stretch and a yawn, she sat back down and looked over at the eight-year-old boy resting beside her. She smiled sadly knowing that the peacefulness he displayed was only a lie. "I whish I knew what happened to you buddy." She batted at the tears in her eyes and then placed a kiss on his forehead. "You get better soon."

Dean pulled up in front of the building and felt a tinge of uneasiness as he read the words, Livonia Children's Psychiatric Hospital. He'd seen people over and over again become traumatized by the evil that existed in this world, but there was nothing like seeing a child stripped of his innocence. It was devastating.

Dean had been robbed of his own naivety at a very young age with the death of his mother. The only peace he found in the ordeal was that Sam was merely an infant when it happened and all he knew of that tragic night were the stories told, and not the vivid memories that often haunted Dean. He'd protected Sam as long as he could and supposed that was the reason Sam always fought so hard to distance himself from the family business and live what he claimed was a normal life, but it all caught up to him the night his girlfriend shared his mother's fate.

Dean looked over at his brother's sleeping figure with a guilt stricken heart. Had he not always sheltered him and coddled him when he struggled, he might have been more prepared to face Jess's death. He might not be so hesitant to let people get close. And now with these nightmares, these premonitions of death he had, he struggled even more. He tried to be strong like his brave big brother, but Dean knew he was scared of it all. Sam often resembled a fearful child, and deep in his heart Dean feared Sam could one day end up in a place much like this.

Dean shook off the depressing thoughts and pulled the keys from the ignition. Until that day came, if indeed it ever did, Dean would keep his brother's spirits up the only way he knew how. He looked around the car and then grinned as he plucked a rubber band off the dashboard. His smirk grew as he stretched the elastic over his index finger and finally, took aim at the side of Sam's face.

He let go with no remorse and stifled a laugh as his brother awoke in a bit of a panic. He lost it completely, laughing hysterically, when Sam put his hand to his stinging cheek and discovered the rubber band in his lap. Sam slowly turned to his assailant with his mouth hanging open. "You're a friggin' jerk."

Dean proudly accepted the title with a boyish smile. "Chicks dig the bad boys."

Sam rolled his eyes and then proceeded to rub the sleep from them. "Look alive Sammy." Dean chirped as he pulled some fake ID's from the glove box. "It's show time."

Sam heaved himself from the car and followed Dean through the front door of the hospital. They casually strolled up to the reception desk, greeting the stout nurse behind it with angelic smiles. "Good evening Wanda." Dean said with all of his natural charm. "Could you kindly tell us where to find the Halloway boy?"

"I'm sorry hun, but visiting hours ended at nine."

Dean sighed and then leaned his weight on the desk. "I understand that, and I hate to disturb anyone this time of night, but unfortunately we're here on official police business."

Dean pulled a badge from his jacket pocket and quickly waved it in front of the nurse. "I'm Detective Tony Iommi, Detroit PD, and this is my partner…" Dean looked at his brother and smirked, "Detective Timberlake."

Sam shot Dean a frown and then forced a smile to the nurse. "We have some questions about the missing boy and I'm afraid it can't wait until morning."

The woman eyed the boys for a moment and then sighed as she pulled a clipboard off the desk. She flipped through the pages on the chart and then said. "Room 153. Down this hall and to the left but I'm afraid it won't do you much good."

The nurse shook her head earning curious looks from both Sam and Dean. "That poor little boy was so bad we had to sedate him pretty heavily. Probably the worst case of post traumatic stress I've ever seen."

"That's awful." Sam whispered.

The nurse nodded her head but then gave them a nasty look. "Cops are saying the boy ran away, but a kid doesn't get that upset from his brother walking out the front door. I can't even think about what that poor boy must have witnessed."

Sam and Dean exchanged concerned looks and then Sam smiled sympathetically at the nurse. "That's what we're trying to figure out ma'am. Thank you for the help."

Shelly had finally dosed off completely but woke up when she heard another long creaking noise. She woke with a bit of a start, but all was still so she leaned over and rested her head on the bed in front of her. Just before she drifted off again, she noticed the cupboard out of the corner of her eye. The door was wide open again, but Shelly knew she'd closed it tightly.

Slowly, she made her way across the room, weary of what might be lurking in the darkness. As she reached the counter, she carefully pulled the cupboard door all the way open and peered beneath the sink. She laughed at herself when the space was empty but she stopped when she heard the faint sound of a wicked laugh behind her.

She whirled around examining every inch of the room, but no one was there except Jeremy. She listened to the silence for a moment and heard it again. This time there was no laughter, just the sound of breathing. The noise seemed to be coming from a supply closet on the other side of the room. It too was open just a crack and a malicious voice began to whisper so quietly she could barely make out the words. They were familiar though. They were the only words her stepbrother had spoken since he'd been admitted to the hospital.

"Baby, baby, naught baby,  
Hush! you squalling thing, I say;  
Peace this instant! Peace! or maybe  
Bogey will pass this way."

Anger took over as her mind told her this was someone's idea of a sick joke. "Who's there?" she demanded as she headed toward the closet.

Just as she reached for the closet the door to the room opened, nearly forcing a scream from her as she jumped sky high. She turned to face her intruder and breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar face. "Dean! You made it."

Dean hugged his old friend but his smile became a look of concern when he saw how pale Shelly's face was. "Everything ok in here?"

Shelly glanced back at the closet, shaking off her nerves, and forced a smile. "Fine." She laughed. "Just psyching myself out I guess."

Dean smirked, eyeing the open closet curiously. "Is little Shelly Halloway scared of the dark?"

Shelly's eyes narrowed, but her lips curved into a smile as she stepped dangerously close to Dean. "Why don't you turn out the lights and find out?"

Dean let a single laugh escape as he attempted to control his hormones. "Well I would," he teased, "But uh, Sammy here's sort of afraid of the dark."

Shelly stepped back in surprise as she noticed for the first time that Sam had entered the room after his brother. "Sammy!"

"Its just Sam actually."

"Really? It didn't seem to bother you the last time I called you that." Shelly smirked and then sent a playful wink his direction.

Sam's face paled as Shelly greeted him with an enthusiastic hug, which he returned very stiffly. Dean watched the interaction very curiously. He knew his brother could be uptight sometimes, but this was bad even for him. Sam stepped back next to his brother and Shelly looked the boys up and down. "Well this is a surprise." She said being the first to break the silence. "The Winchester Boys together again. I thought Joe College would be off saving the world in a courtroom by now."

"Actually I never made it to law school."

Sam tried to hide his pain behind a smile and even though it didn't fool anyone, both Shelly and Dean let it slide. While Dean was not in the mood for another Sammy pity party, Shelly simply had the decency to let sleeping dogs lie. "I don't know about saving the world," Sam continued, hoping to change the subject as he motioned to the sleeping boy. "But I would like to help this little guy if I can."

"I'd like that." Shelly smiled as she joined him at her stepbrother's bedside.

Dean took his place on the other side of Shelly and tried his best to keep his mind focused on the little boy in front of him instead of the conveniently low v-neck top on the woman standing next to him. "So the police really have no leads huh?"

"Nothing." Shelly sighed, "But I know Brent didn't just run away. The kid is a teenage nightmare, but he never would have left Jeremy alone like that."

Shelly's voice softened a bit and her eyes glossed over as she continued with her explanation. "He was completely in shock when they found him. He'd wet himself and he was curled up so tightly that they had to pry his little arms from around his knees. That kind of fear is just not normal."

Shelly sighed again as she gently pushed the boys hair back and Sam about died when he saw Dean leaning back a little in order to enjoy the view Shelly created as she leaned over to place a kiss on Jeremy's forehead. He shot Dean a look of disgust, but Dean replied with a confused shrug. Sam couldn't believe Dean didn't know what he meant, and he made a slight motion with his head toward Shelly's backside, which she caught out of the corner of her eye.

Dean smirked rather proudly when Sam appeared to be the one checking her out and barely resisted the urge to laugh when Sam turned sick with embarrassment. He was intrigued with the peculiar smile Shelly gave Sam, but the poor kid looked so uncomfortable for a moment that Dean took pity on him and broke the silence, pulling Shelly's attention away. "What do the doctor's think is wrong with him?"

"That's actually what made me think to call you. When he's awake he just stares at the closet and repeats this poem over and over again and the doctor's think he's developed this weird condition."

"What condition?"

"Bogyphobia?" Sam read allowed as he noticed the pamphlet on the night table.

"Yeah. It's where kids who've witnessed something traumatic subconsciously turn what they've seen into an imaginary monster as a way of dealing with their fears."

"Imaginary monster? Like the bogeyman?"

When Shelly nodded a confirmation Sam and Dean glanced at one another both feeling the seriousness of the situation just went up a notch. "Are you saying you think the Bogeyman took his brother?"

Shelly shrugged, unsure exactly how to respond, but her hesitation was proof enough of what her heart was telling her. "But that's ridiculous right? I mean there's no such thing as the Bogeyman… Is there?"

Shelly glanced back and forth between her friends knowing their eyes were saying things their mouths weren't. Shelly looked to Dean for an answer but he shrugged and looked to Sam. "Look, I don't know. Not that I know of, but never say never right? Something obviously scared this boy nearly to death."

Sam's speech was hardly comforting and tears began to spill from Shelly's eyes as she envisioned a horrific monster dragging off her stepbrother into a vast nothingness. Dean pulled the distressed woman tightly into his arms. "It's ok to be upset." He whispered, "But Jeremy needs you to be strong right now. Imagine how much more scared he'd be if he knew you were scared too."

"We may not know what happened," Sam added, "But at least Jeremy is safe now and we have a place to start looking. We're going to need to get into your stepbrother's bedroom though."

Shelly gave Dean one more tight squeeze before letting him go and then nodded Sam's direction. "Karen and my dad will be here first thing in the morning. I'd be happy to take you guys to the house after they get here."

The boys took that as their queue to say goodnight and Sam shared an understanding smile with Shelly before heading to the door. Shelly grabbed Dean's hand and gave it a firm squeeze before he walked out the door behind Sam and then surprised him with a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you for coming."

Dean's face lit up at her touch and he smiled down at her. "We'll be back at eight am. You try and get some rest. No more psyching yourself out."

"I won't." She promised. "I'm glad you're here."


	4. Inconsistencies

Chapter 4: Inconsistencies 

Sam sat in a crowded café and pulled his laptop from its case as a waitress set a coffee mug in front of him. Dean came out of the bathroom just in time to notice the way the woman looked at his brother. Sam gave her an appreciative smile as she filled his cup but then his eyes went back to scanning his web browser.

Dean wasn't the least bit surprised by the passive interaction, just disappointed. He gave the waitress a big smile as he took a seat across from Sam and eagerly accepted his own cup of coffee. "Thank god for coffee." He laughed, "You may as well just leave the pot."

"You boys have a long night?"

"I wish it was something as exciting as what you're thinking." Dean laughed when he saw the curious twinkle in the woman's eyes. "I could really use a night out and Lord knows the last time Sam here had a date."

The waitress laughed and Dean winked at her as she walked away. Once she was out of earshot dean laughed having amused himself. "What the hell was that Dean?"

"What? She's cute. You should go for it man. In case you didn't notice, you're totally in."

"I would really appreciate it if you would stop trying to pimp me out all the time."

"If you would let loose every now and then I wouldn't have to."

"Do we really have to have this conversation again?" Sam hissed trying not to raise his voice.

"What conversation?" Shelly chirped as she plopped down into the booth next to Dean.

"Its nothing." Sam replied quickly.

"Oh we're just talking about how Sam never gets any."

Shelly gave Sam a knowing smile and playfully replied, "Sam _**never**_ gets any?"

Sam's face went so pale so fast he didn't even have time to glare at his brother. He just sat there wishing he had away to change the conversation from his love life until the waitress returned to the table. "You guys have a chance to look over the menu yet? See anything you'd like?"

Dean Smirked; it was just too easy. "Yeah Sam, see anything you'd like?"

Dean buckled forward when Sam kicked him hard under the table. Sam smiled nervously up at the waitress. "I'm actually not that hungry, maybe just some toast?"

"Sure." The woman said with a sympathetic smile and then turned to Shelly and Dean.

Dean happily rattled off an entire list of food and then Shelly shook her head. "Nothing for me thanks. Just coffee. Lots of coffee."

"Another night owl huh?"

"Not on purpose." Shelly laughed.

Once the waitress was gone Dean took a closer look at Shelly and frowned. It was obvious she'd had a rough night. The dark circles under her eyes were proof of her lack of sleep. She questioned his look and he replied by saying, "You look like crap."

"Just what every girl wants to hear."

"Didn't you get any sleep last night?"

"Not much" Shelly laughed, "I swear I have a case of bogyphobia. After I read that dumb pamphlet I thought I was going to go crazy. I kept hearing things all night long."

Shelly laughed at herself and was surprised at how serious both Sam and Dean suddenly seemed. "What kind of noises?"

"Oh you know just stupid things, weird creeks, rustling bed sheets. It was late and I was freaked out. I thought I kept hearing this laugh coming from a cupboard, but it was just a broken latch on the door."

Sam and Dean looked at one another for a moment, pondering the possibility of it being real, but Shelly seemed confidante enough in the fact that she'd imagined it, so they brushed it off. Shelly looked at the laptop as she downed her coffee. "Please tell me you've found something."

Sam shrugged. "We were up all night and we couldn't find anything that might help us."

"You couldn't find anything about the bogeyman?"

"Nothing consistent." Sam explained. "The bogeyman is probably the most wide spread legend we've ever come up against."

"What does that mean?"

"Everyone has heard of the bogeyman." Dean explained. "But nobody really knows what the hell the damn thing is."

"Isn't it just a monster that lives in closets and takes kids?"

"That's the most common theory." Sam agreed, "But there's thousands of different versions of it. It really has no specific appearance. Sometimes it's a boy, and sometimes it's a girl. Sometimes it's a big gruesome creature and other times it's just a shadow figure with no physical form."

"Well if it's really real, then how can it change like that?"

Just thinking about the endless dead ends they'd come to last night in their search made Dean's head hurt. "That's just it, it shouldn't be able to." He said as he rubbed his eyes.

"It's not just the appearance either." Sam added completely stumped, "The entire legend is different. The story tends to change by region, which is common with legends, but usually there's a few things in common no matter how the story's told."

"But that's not the case here?" Shell asked hoping Sam might say yes.

"Not at all." He said, "I can't find anything that's consistent in every story. Sometimes he lives in the closet, sometimes it's in the toy box or under the bed, and sometimes he just lurks in dark corners. The common theory here in the Midwest is that he scratches on the window and takes you as soon as you open it. But you said Jeremy is afraid of the closet, so again the pieces don't fit."

Shelly released a frustrated sigh as she began to lose hope in the situation. "So there really is no such thing as the bogeyman."

"I wouldn't say that." Dean disagreed, "I think the term Bogeyman is more like a title. There's a lot of scary shit out there and most people don't know the difference between them so when they see something they can't explain, they simply call it the bogeyman."

"But that doesn't make the threat any less real." Sam added, "Shelly, we've got to figure out exactly what took your step brother and stop it before it takes someone else."

"How are we supposed to do that?"

"Oh there's ways." Dean smirked, "Trust me, we'll get the bastard."

Dean slipped his arm around Shelly and gave her a reassuring hug. She seemed to melt into him, soaking up his confidence and after a moment the smile had returned to her face. Sam was glad to see Shelly feeling a little better, but there was just something really strange about the way she and Dean seemed to like they were together.

It was weird to see Dean with any woman where he wasn't just trying to pick up on her, though Sam guessed that's what it would turn into in another thirty seconds or so. But for the moment it almost looked like a real relationship and it was very unsettling. It's not that Sam didn't want to see his brother happily settled down, because he'd love for him to understand what that feels like, but monogamy and Dean just couldn't go in the same sentence.

Dean ragged on Sam a lot for never hooking up, and although stunts like he'd just pulled with the waitress annoyed Sam, he tried to never let it really get to him. He knew Dean was just trying to help the only way he knew how.

Sam knew Dean worried about him and thought that he was just afraid of being hurt again. But it was more than that; Sam believed he was cursed. After his mother and Jess, he was convinced that anyone who got close to him would share that same fate and he simply couldn't go through it again. Sam had something with Jessica that Dean could never really understand and once a person experiences love like that, they can't just go back to meaningless flings. Dean had never known a relationship like that and probably never would.

Sometimes the most frustration thing about Dean was that he was always mad at Sam for not wanting to get close to people, yet that's exactly how he lived his own life. Dean shared Sam's troubles; he just chose to hide it behind an overly-confidante attitude and lots of woman. Deep down the whole player routine was just a façade and the only one who didn't know it was Dean.

Once Sam's thoughts turned to Jessica he stayed pretty quiet through the rest of breakfast. Eventually he could feel Dean and Shelly watching him and he really didn't feel like explaining the death of his girlfriend to Shelly so he packed up his computer and said he'd meet them outside. He passed the waitress on his way out the door and offered a weak "Thanks," when she smiled.

The woman approached Dean and Shelly with a curious look. "Is something wrong with your friend?"

Dean shook his head and then grinned at the look of concern on the girl's face. "He did ask me to give you this though."

Dean pulled a napkin from the dispenser and scribbled down Sam's phone number. The woman grinned but then raised an eyebrow skeptically at Dean. "He asked you to give this to me?"

"OK, well maybe not in those exact words, but trust me you should call him."

The waitress eyed the number again but then smiled. "Alright." She said and carefully slipped the napkin into her apron pocket.

Once the waitress was gone Shelly laughed and gave Dean a funny look. He shrugged a guilty smile and said, "He'll thank me for it in the long run."

Shelly shook her head as Dean got up from the table and slid his arm around her waist. "Now, let's go check out that house."


	5. Close Encounters

Chapter 5: Close Encounters 

Dean entered the small town of Dundee Michigan very unimpressed with his surroundings. As he drove slowly down the main drag, Sam leaned forward to look up at the small water tower with the town's name painted proudly across it. "Why is it always the small towns that seem to have this kind of trouble?"

Dean began to get restless as he waited at a deserted intersection at the town's only stoplight. "The demons probably just can't tell the difference between this and hell."

Sam smirked at the response having his own preference for the city life, but then glanced back when he realized that Shelly's family lived in this town. Dean could tell he was worried about insulting her and glanced again in his rear view mirror. "Relax Sam, she's been completely out of it for the last hour."

Sam smiled sadly at the sleeping woman curled up in the backseat of the Impala. "She really did have a bad night didn't she?"

"It must be hard, I know she really likes that little guy."

"Yeah, but did you catch that stuff she was saying earlier, about hearing things all night? You don't think it was what went after her step brother do you?"

"I doubt it. Things like that are usually stuck to the home they haunt. I doubt the thing could have followed them all the way to Detroit."

Sam frowned still trying to convince himself that the little boy was safe.

"Psycho hospitals are creepy dude." Dean reassured him, "She was probably just freaked out."

"Yeah." Sam hesitantly agreed as they pulled into the driveway of Shelly's father's house.

Sam and Dean looked up at the house and then to one another and simultaneously opened their doors. Sam knocked on the back window, waking Shelly, while Dean popped the trunk. He pulled the floor of the trunk up to reveal a secret compartment and used a sawed off shotgun to prop it open while he sifted through a cash of weapons. One by one Dean started loading himself with knives, guns, ammo and anything he thought might keep them safe. After Shelly watched him strap a knife around his waist, push a pistol into his pants and finally, load the shotgun full of rock salt she laughed. But when he picked up a grenade, she pulled it from his hands with questioning eyes and put it back in the trunk. "Let's try and not blow up my dad's place huh?"

Dean shrugged innocently, "We don't know what we're dealing with. It's better to be prepared."

"That's funny," Shelly laughed, "Never pegged you for a boy scout."

"Na, Sammy's the Girl Scout. I'm more like Bruce Willis from Die Hard."

"I think you mean Luke Perry in Buffy the Vampire Slayer." Sam smirked.

Dean thought about the insult for a moment but then grinned, "I can live with that. The dude gets Kristy Swanson in the end."

Dean cocked his gun as he headed into the house and both Shelly and Sam just laughed as they followed him inside. Sam was the last one inside and the instant he closed the door behind him there was an obvious drop in temperature that turned their playful moods rather serious. As they all looked around the house nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, but there was an ominous feel that sent an unsettling chill through Shelly. "Hey guys?" She whispered and she shook off her shiver, "What exactly do you suppose happened to Brent?"

"Hard to say." Sam answered as he looked at a picture of the missing boy. "There are as many theories about that as there are about the bogeyman himself."

"Well what are some of those theories?"

Sam and Dean glanced nervously at one another and then Dean turned to Shelly with a completely serious expression. "I don't think you want to know."

"Tell me." Shelly demanded. "Leaving it up to my imagination is worse, I promise."

Sam sighed but couldn't ignore her request. "Well one theory is that he takes you back to his world and you're never seen from again, but there's also the idea that he tortures you as punishment for all the naughty things you've done. The most common one though…" Sam hesitated a moment but continued when he saw the look on Shelly's face. "They say that he tears you apart limb from limb and then feeds off your flesh."

Shelly swallowed hard, trying not to get too upset since she was the one who asked, but the thought was too disturbing. Her eyes widened and she threw herself into Dean's arms. He hugged her tightly but then pulled her chin up. "Whatever happened to him, it's not going to happen to anyone ever again. We're going to find this thing and blow him back to hell ok?"

Shelly nodded and quickly regained control of herself. "At a girl," Dean smiled, "Why don't you show me where this kid's room is."

Shelly pointed to the stairs and Dean led her up, stopping midway to look at an old picture of Shelly in a full cowgirl costume, holding up a trophy. "The rodeo?" Dean asked curiously.

Shelly rolled her eyes at the smirk on his face. "My dad's idea. I used to compete in the barrel races."

"Not that I don't love what you've got going on now, but that is hot." Dean laughed as he pointed to the picture.

Shelly's fears were temporarily forgotten as she lost herself in Dean's flirty eyes. "I still have the hat in a closet at my apartment, if you feel like playing rodeo."

Dean's mind glazed over with dirty thoughts until Sam gave a suggestive cough. "Guys, big scary monster? Likes to eat kids? Ring a bell?"

"Right." Dean said shaking himself from the fantasy and getting back to business.

Dean pulled out his EMF detector as he reached the top of the stairs and began searching for signs of paranormal activity. The first room they came to was Jeremy's and after quickly glancing inside, he passed it and opened the door to Brent's room with Shelly following close behind.

Sam stopped in front of Jeremy's room as well and just as he was about to head to Brent's room with the others, he heard the faint echo of a cold laugh. He slowly stepped into the little boys' room but heard nothing. For a moment he thought it was in his head but then the closet door seemed to push itself open. He pulled his flashlight from his pocket and made his way to the closet.

Sam carefully opened the closet door all the way and shined the light inside. There seemed to be nothing there, so he switched off the flashlight. Just before he turned around someone pushed him into the dark closet and then locked the door behind him. The flashlight fell from Sam's hands and he immediately reached for the door handle, but it wouldn't budge. He was about to throw all his weight into the door when he heard scratching on the outside of the closet followed by more laughter. "Dean?" he yelled but only heard another laugh. "Ha ha very funny you guys! Come on man, we're not kids anymore. Open the door."

He paused when heard the laugh turn into some sort of deranged whisper, "'Baby, baby, naught baby, Hush! you squalling thing, I say; Peace this instant! Peace! Or maybe Bogey will pass this way."

"What the?" he whispered to himself.

Sam fell to the floor looking for his flashlight but stopped when he finally he heard Dean and Shelly's voices. He became pissed when he heard them laughing, but was very confused by the conversation. "Sammy?" Dean said as he entered the room, "You in here little brother?"

"I'm sure he just went to the bathroom." Shelly reassured him, "Besides, Sam is way to nice a boy to be taken by the Bogeyman. He only goes after the naughty ones remember?"

"You have a point there." Dean shrugged but then smirked, "But if that's the case maybe we should be more worried about you, with all that talk about playing rodeo."

Shelly grinned wickedly and slid her arms around Dean's waist. "You know, I still have the boots too."

"How about that lasso?" Dean smirked, pulling her even closer to him.

"Well look who's the naughty one now." Shelly laughed.

"You have no idea." Dean said finally pulling Shelly's lips to meet his.

Sam rolled his eyes at the conversation he was hearing and just as he was about to begin banging on the door again he heard a small click and the door fell ajar. He pushed it open all the way and stepped out of the closet completely confused, only to find his brother and Shelly making out. He stood there in shock with his jaw hanging open. Shelly saw him first and practically jumped from Dean's grip. "Sam." She gasped in surprise.

Redness crept into Shelly's cheeks at the look Sam gave her, but their eyes never broke contact. Dean looked at the two as if they were crazy and became suspicious of the tension between them. "Did I miss something?" he asked breaking up the moment.

Shelly quickly turned to him with a nervous laugh and shook her head. She then turned her attention back to Sam and changed the subject before he had time to ask any questions. "What were you doing in there?"

Dean looked at his brother and laughed, "I always knew you'd come out of the closet one day."

"You're hilarious." Sam said in total disgust, "Oh, and real mature locking me in there like that. You know you're too old for that prank crap."

"What are you talking about?"

Sam realized his brother honestly had no idea what he was talking about and the realization of what had happened hit them all at once. Sam stepped back from the closet and Dean turned on the EMF. The thing buzzed to life immediately, flashing all kinds of warnings of a supernatural presence. "Something's in there." Sam whispered taking the shotgun from Shelly.

He cocked the gun and then gave Dean a nod. Dean pulled the pistol from his pants and kicked the door open all the way. He heard the same sadistic laugh that they'd all heard now, and as he stared into the darkness a pair of glowing yellow eyes appeared in front of him. He squinted, trying to make out the creatures figure, and took a small step closer to the closet. "Well folks, shall we see what we have behind door number two?"

Just as shelly warned Dean to be careful the eyes disappeared. Dean looked to Sam confused. "Where'd it go?"

A gust of wind swirled around the room and bedroom door slammed shut behind them. When they turned their backs to the closet, something grabbed Dean by the ankles and knocked him to the ground. The force of the fall sent his gun flying across the floor. "Sam!" he yelled as he was dragged into the closet.

Dean's hands caught the doorframe and he held on with all his strength. "Sammy! Shoot the bastard!"

"Shoot what? I don't see anything!" Sam yelled back as he stared into the darkness.

"Shoot whatever dude, I can't hold on much longer!" Sam cocked the shotgun and aimed into the darkness, "Just don't shoot me!"

Sam took a deep breath and then fired the gun. The evil laugh returned with full force and echoed throughout the entire house. Dean screamed as the monster pulled even harder. His fingers began to slip one by one and Sam dove to the floor, grabbing him by the wrist. Sam got a good hold on Dean but then had no way to hold on to anything else. "Smooth move genius!" Dean yelled when Sam began sliding into the closet too. "What now?"

"How should I know? You're the one who thinks he's John McLean, remember?"

"This is no time to be a wise guy Sam!" Dean said as the room began to shake.

"But five minutes ago was the perfect time for a make out session?"

"Hey guys!" Sam and Dean looked up to see Shelly standing over them holding the shotgun, "Shut up and duck!"

Sam and Dean's eyes widened and they threw their heads to the ground as best they could. Shelly looked into the darkness and saw the sickening eyes glaring at her. "Gotcha." She whispered as she took aim.

The creature let go of Dean and jumped at Shelly just as she pulled the trigger. With a single blast of salt, the spirit dissolved into thin air and the house was quiet again. Shelly put down the gun and everyone took a moment to catch their breath. "What the hell was that thing?" Shelly asked in a shaking voice, "I thought you said the Bogeyman didn't exist."

"Well I've been known to be wrong once or twice. It's rare, but it happens." Dean shrugged and then frowned at Sam, "Why did it let you go and go after me?"

"The same reason Santa Clause puts coal in your stocking Dean." Sam smirked. "I suggest we get out of here before it comes back and figure out what it is we're dealing with."

"And how to kill the son of a bitch." Dean grumbled.


	6. Dead Ends

Chapter 6: Dead Ends 

Sam rubbed his tired eyes. It wasn't even dark yet, but it had been a very long day and he just wanted to crash. The bed didn't even need to be decent so long as he could lie down. But when he entered the small town's only bar and found the two people he'd been looking for laughing over drinks, his anger pushed his fatigue right out the window. "What the hell Dean?" He grumbled.

Dean's face lit up when he saw his brother. "Sammy. Where've you been? We were about to put out a missing persons report."

Sam looked at the nearly empty glasses on the bar and rolled his eyes. "Yeah looks like it."

Dean looked down at his beer with a shrug. "It was a grueling day at the office. This town is so Mayberry that the police don't even keep their old files on computer. We spent hours sifting through dusty folders in a damp supply closet."

Sam's mood lightened a bit and he smirked at the expression on Dean's face. He knew how much his big brother hated the authorities and was sure spending the day at the police station was torture for the poor guy. That's actually part of the reason he insisted he go to the library while Dean dig through old police files, so he couldn't be mad at his brother for wanting to blow off a little steam. "So what'd you guys find?" he asked instead of picking a pointless argument.

"Nada." Dean said completely annoyed. "We found out that Mr. Mirtz over at the general store was robbed last month, and that Principal Hill likes to cross dress during summer vacation." Dean took another sip of his drink before continuing. "No child has ever been harmed, kidnapped or even been reported missing in this town until Brent. Not even any unexplained accidents. Please tell me you had better luck."

"Not really." Sam said heaving himself onto a barstool. "I went through every newspaper the library had archived. Not a single story that looked supernatural. No hauntings, no unexplained events, nothing mysterious at all. I even went to the city hall and looked through their records and found a complete dead end. It's like the town Casper forgot."

"So what now college boy? Any bright ideas?"

Sam thought for a minute and then released a heavy sigh. "I say we go back to Detroit and see if we can talk to the kid. He might be able to tell us something we missed, give us some kind of clue."

"Well if we're gonna head back tonight," Shelly interrupted and then pounded back the rest of her beer, "Then I say we get going now because it's a bit of a drive and it's starting to get dark."

Shelly was putting on a strong front and said that as if she were joking, but beneath the surface Sam could tell that she really was nervous. He was sure of it because he knew exactly how she felt. He was a grown man and yet even with all of his skills and training in self-defense, he still felt a chill every time he walked into a dark room. This time it was especially unsettling because he had no clue what he was dealing with and today's trail had all but gone cold. He pulled himself to a standing position and was about to agree with Shelly when Dean beat him to the reply. "I thought you said you weren't scared of the dark." He teased.

"I wasn't. But in case you forgot, the two of you nearly got eaten alive today so forgive me if I don't want to be caught out on a dark deserted highway when there's an evil monster on the loose."

"Spirit." Dean corrected with a smirk.

"Huh?"

"It's an evil spirit, not a monster. That shotgun you blasted it with earlier was filled with rock salt. Rock salt is a spirit deterrent. If it were a monster all you would have done is pissed it off."

"Spirit, monster, ghost, demon, whatever. My point is, I don't want that thing coming after me tonight."

"Alright, alright." Dean laughed when he saw Shelly starting to get upset for real, "We can go now." Dean's grin turned even cheesier as he slumped an arm over her shoulder. "I'll even let you sit shotgun."

"My hero." Shelly said dryly with a roll of her eyes, yet she still slid her arm around Dean's waist and pulled herself close as they walked out.

Sam watched them leave the bar with a million thoughts running through his head and before he knew it, a frown was resting comfortably on his face again. Seeing Shelly brought back so many memories and so many feelings, and as much as Sam wanted to address them, now simply wasn't the time. He was always amazed at the way Dean managed to keep a playful attitude when there was so much evil around them.

Dean had a special talent for forgetting his troubles, and just having a good time when he needed it. Sam supposed it could be a little inappropriate sometimes, for instance making out with a girl when his little brother was trapped in a closet with an evil man-eating spirit. But most of the time Dean's crazy antics were harmless and only made Sam so grumpy because he himself couldn't find the off switch for the stress. Dean was always telling him that he needed to relax and he wanted to more than anything, he just didn't know how.

Sam took a slow deep breath before heading out to the car. He though that watching Dean and Shelly for the next hour and a half was going to work his last nerve and it turned out he was right. He was annoyed by the sexual tension before he even had his seat belt buckled. As the car sped out of town on the quiet two-lane highway, Sam figured the only way to keep the awkwardness to a minimum was to keep Dean and Shelly's minds focused on anything but each other.

He noticed Shelly look around at the shadows that were just starting to appear in the trees passing them by and leaned forward. "You don't have to worry." He said, "Spirits are usually tied to the place they haunt so unless you go back into that house, he can't come after you out here."

"Plus, you have Sammy and I looking out for ya."

Shelly was a little embarrassed by her fear, but she was grateful to have them there with her and she let them know it with a smile. The smile faded quickly though, as more thoughts entered her head. "Supposing we can get him to talk, what do you think Jeremy will be able to tell you that you don't already know?"

"I'm hoping he might be able to tell us what it looked like." Sam sighed, "Or he may have seen exactly what it did to his brother, or where it took him. Anything he can tell us. Hopefully something that might give us a clue since we don't really have anything to go off of."

"And whose fault is that?" Dean smirked trying to lighten the mood when he saw Shelly shiver.

"What?" Sam said not appreciating Dean's sense of humor.

Dean smirked and with a shrug said, "You're loosin' your touch Sammy. I can't believe you didn't get a good look at the thing."

"Me? It grabbed you too."

"It came at me from behind genius. You were the one playing seven minutes in heaven with it."

Sam's patience began to drain again the way it always did when Dean proved he had the maturity of a fifteen year old. Dean smiled victoriously when "It was dark." was the only lame comeback Sam could offer.

Dean loved picking on Sam and he knew exactly how to push his buttons. He never let it get really out of hand, but he figured it was his brotherly right to give him crap. He even considered it his duty since he was the older of the two boys. He wasn't usually one to back down from the torture so soon either, but something had been going on with Sam since they took this job. He was way more agitated than usual. Dean decided to cut him some slack so that he wouldn't have to hear him pout all night. "Fine, it was dark." He said, "But you're sure you didn't see anything?"

"It never came at me. It just laughed. It was kind of a sick, haunting, creepy laugh."

"Well it sure as hell came at me." Dean grumbled, "And the damn thing has some friggin' sharp claws."

"It's small." Shelly said, "Two, maybe three feet tall."

Sam and Dean had become so wrapped up in their argument that they were surprised by the interruption. "You saw it?" Sam asked.

"Just an outline." Shelly replied, "It stayed in the shadows, but I saw its eyes. Beady little, glowing yellow eyes. They were pure evil."

"So we're looking for a midget creature with yellow eyes, sharp claws and a creepy laugh. The damn thing nearly ate us and that's all we could come up with? Well that's just great." Dean grumbled again.

"Spirit." Shelly smirked. "Not creature."

Dean flashed Shelly a crooked grin, somewhat turned on by the sarcasm. The two made eyes at each other like a couple of dogs in heat but Sam ignored them as he thought for a moment. "There may be something else." He said, slowly shaking his head. "It said something, some kind of poem or song or something. I can't remember exactly, but it was something like hush naughty baby or the bogeyman will come this way?"

Shelly's thoughts immediately turned from dirty ones of Dean to the vision of her little stepbrother lifelessly whispering the chilling words. She sat back in her seat and her eyes glazed over as she mindlessly repeated the poem. "'Baby, baby, naught baby, Hush! you squalling thing, I say; Peace this instant! Peace! or maybe Bogey will pass this way."

"That's it!" Sam said sparking at the recognition. "How do you know that poem?" 

"It's the only thing Jeremy's said since Brent went missing. He just keeps saying it over and over again."

"That's a creepy-ass poem."

Shelly pulled her eyes back to Dean. "That's not even the worst part." She said rubbing her hands over the goose bumps on her arms. "Baby, baby, if he hears you as he gallops past the house, limb from limb at once he'll tear you just as pussy tears a mouse."

Sam cringed at what those words probably meant for the missing boy, and Dean became angry. "That's it." He said, "That little Bogey-bastard's going down."

All was quiet in the car for a minute until Shelly finally broke the silence. "The bogeyman." She whispered in disbelief. "How are we supposed to kill the bogeyman?"

Dean flashed Sam a glance in the rear view mirror and Sam looked back at him equally concerned. The truth was, neither of them had any idea how they were going to do that. "That's what we have to figure out." Dean explained, "We've never really come up against a spirit like this before."

"The actual legend of the bogeyman doesn't have the answer either." Sam said, "It's never been done. Everyone he's ever come after disappears without a trace and is never seen again. That's why there are so many different theories of what it is, because all we have are theories. There's no real evidence to back it up."

"That's why we always assumed he wasn't real." Dean added, "Nobody's that good."

Shelly looked at Dean and her glossy eyes began spilling tears. When he shrugged a weak smile, she looked back at the road in front of her and swallowed the lump that was beginning to rise in her stomach. The tears surprised Sam. The Shelly he knew had always been such a wild and crazy, fearless girl that never cried and he immediately felt awful for dragging her into this mess. His voice softened and his lips curled into a reassuring smile. "We'll figure it out Shell, we always do."

Dean was intrigued by the way Sam comforted the woman. He knew that of the two of them Sam was usually the one who could make people feel better. Sam seemed to have the magic touch in that respect and Dean was proud of him for it, but somehow Sam seemed more comfortable than normal as he gently placed his hand on her shoulder. And Shelly seemed unusually relaxed by it, almost as if it were familiar to her. Dean had a hard time keeping his eyes on the road when Shelly covered Sam's hand with her own and released a sigh. "I know you will Sammy."

Dean stared at their hands, and with a tiny bewildered laugh tried to break up the awkward moment. "You know he really doesn't like to be called Sammy." He said but was shocked when neither of them even heard the comment.

Shelly had turned around and met Sam's eyes with hers. Dean watched in utter disbelief as he realized there was something that they weren't telling him. The thought of his little brother actually having a past with a woman like Shelly was mind-boggling and his hands slipped on the steering wheel, forcing the car to drift off the road. When the tires hit the soft ground it snapped Dean's attention back to the road but it was too late.

Sam and Shelly were pulled from their moment by the commotion and surprised to find the car sitting in a ditch. They watched Dean curse up a storm under his breath. "What happened?" Sam asked astonished but Dean had no good reply.

Sam knew how much Dean cherished the classic Impala and knew his anger was probably reaching dangerous levels over it being in a ditch, but it only made the situation even funnier and he burst into laughter. "Its not funny!" Dean snapped forcing even more laughter from his younger brother.

"It's pretty funny." Shelly shrugged and broke out into her own fit of giggles.

Dean glared at the two people he secretly blamed for his error but couldn't find the words to yell at them so he sat there growling to himself while his cheeks turned red with anger. Trying his best to ignore them, he cranked the steering wheel and stepped on the gas. "Aw come on!" Dean whined when the tires spun in place beneath him.

Sam and Shelly were practically crying from laughter until Dean reached over the seat and slugged his brother. Sam calmed his giggles as he rubbed his sore arm and once Dean had his attention he motioned toward the trunk. Sam smirked at Shelly and then the two of them got out of the car and began to push.

On a count of three Dean hit the gas while Sam and Shelly threw all their weight into the back of the car. When the tires began to spin, the mud they were stuck in flew up covering Sam from head to toe. Sam stopped pushing to wipe the mud from his eyes and Shelly stopped pushing to laugh at his predicament. "Come on put some muscle into it you wusses." Dean yelled out the window.

Sam gave Shelly a pout for laughing at him and then they both pushed again as hard as they could. The car finally gripped solid ground and went soaring out of the ditch. When the resistance was gone Shelly lost her balance and ended up face first in a puddle of mud. She rolled over on her back to find Sam laughing hysterically. He figured they were even, but Shelly didn't see it that way. With a quick swoop of her foot, Sam was in the mud with her.

In retaliation Sam scooped up a hand full of mud and smashed it into Shelly's face. They wrestled around for a moment, one thing led to another, and before they knew it they were tangled in each other's arms. The laughter died and they suddenly found themselves fighting for their breath. "I'm sorry." Sam sad with a smile as he wiped the mud from Shelly's face.

The feel of her skin under his fingers flooded Sam's mind with memories and he couldn't help the way he looked at her. Shelly was stunned to see a hint of the old feelings he'd once had for her and was scared by the fact that she was feeling them too. Both wanted to escape the moment but neither could look away so they didn't mind the least bit when Dean got out of the car looking for the other two members of his party. "Whoa." He said when he walked around the back of the car. "I was gonna say lets get going but uh, I guess I can wait."

"Dean!" Shelly gasped as she struggled to her feet."

"It's not what it looks like." Sam added quickly.

"It looks like Wally just got outplayed by the Beaver." Dean said not sure whether he should feel disappointed or relieved. "But it's cool. You guys do what ya gotta do. I'll be in the car."

Dean disappeared and Sam looked at Shelly apologetically. He watched her sort through a heap of confusion and then she glared at him coldly. She practically stormed off and Sam cringed when he heard the car door slam. He knew he'd finally tapped into the anger that he'd expected to find when he first arrived.


	7. Lucky Charms

Chapter 7: Lucky Charms 

"You want to tell me what the hell that was all about?" Dean sneered as he unlocked the door to the cheap motel room.

Sam pushed past his brother, glaring as he went, and flung a beat up duffel onto one of two standard-issue queen beds. "What all what was about?"

"Cut the crap Sammy. You've been wiggin' since we took this job. What's going on with you and Shelly?"

"Nothing. Trust me."

Dean was intrigued by the bitterness in Sam's tone and gently pushed for a little more info. "It didn't look like nothing."

Sam gave his brother a warning look to mind his own business, which caused Dean to shrug as if he would do so, but the look on his face and the way he cleared his throat as he fell onto the other bed caused Sam to explode. "Damnit Dean I'm not getting into this with you again!"

Dean shrugged as he rested himself against the headboard and tucked his hands behind his head. "It's ok. Shelly's hot. She's exciting and fun. Hell you know I like her. Why don't you go for it? I'll back off."

Sam unzipped his bag and began sifting through it for a clean change of clothes. "Not gonna happen."

"What's stopping you?"

Sam stopped what he was doing and stared down at his clothes. The answer to that question caused him a great deal of pain, pain that Dean could never fully understand. "That's complicated." He whispered and then zipped his bag shut.

"I guess so. You guys were like Days Of Our Lives back there with all the drama."

Sam gave his brother a peculiar look. "You watch soap operas?"

Dean was busted when he tried unsuccessfully to hide his guilty look and he frowned when Sam snickered. "Don't change the subject. Why was Shelly so pissed off at you when we dropped her off at her apartment?"

"It's a long story." Sam sighed.

"Try me." Dean said as Sam picked up the clean set of clothes and headed toward the bathroom.

"Dean! I'm not talking about this."

"Dude you've got to relax. I'm just trying to help like a good big brother."

"I didn't ask for your help." Sam said trying his best not to get angry. "Besides, you're the one who always says no chick flick moments."

"I'm not telling you to cry about it, I just thought that maybe I could help."

Sam stopped at the entrance to the bathroom and tried not to laugh at his big brother. "No offense Dean, cause you're my brother and I love you, but you are the last person I would come to for advice about girls."

Dean scoffed an offended, "What?" honestly confused as to what was wrong with him. As far as he was concerned there was no one better to ask about the subject.

Sam grinned at his brother and then disappeared into the bathroom. Dean waved him off with good riddance and then flipped on the old TV set. He glanced at the bathroom door to make sure that it was shut tightly and the water was running before he stopped the channel on an old episode of Oprah. When the water turned off thirty or so minutes later Dean quickly changed the channel to anything but the talk show he'd been absorbed in for the last half an hour. "Did ya leave any hot water for me Samantha?"

"Funny."

"Seriously, what was with the marathon shower?"

Sam dropped heavily onto his bed and let his eyes fall shut. "I'm just tired."

Dean lost the playful attitude and dropped the subject altogether. He knew something was wrong with Sam, but he also knew that there was no man on the planet more stubborn than him; a trait he got from his father. The way those two used to go at it, Dean often felt like he was barely holding their messed up family together by a single thread.

Once their dad wasn't around anymore the fighting didn't happen as much, and at first it was a relief for Dean. Sam stopped pulling away and the brothers became a lot closer, which is what Dean wanted all along. But at the same time, Sam no longer had a way to vent all his feelings and not wanting to fight with the only family he had left, he bottled everything up. Dean didn't necessarily want to fight with Sam, but at least that way he knew what was going on inside that little head of his and he wouldn't worry so much. "Whatever dude." He finally muttered under his breath.

Dean pulled himself from his bead and before making his way into the bathroom for a marathon shower of his own, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and tossed it onto the bed next to Sam. "You should at least call her. You might sleep better and we have a busy day of killing monsters tomorrow."

"It's a spirit." Sam called out sarcastically as Dean disappeared.

When he heard the door shut he reached out for his phone. After staring at it for a moment he realized his brother was right, he needed to talk to Shelly. He closed his eyes again and let out a deep breath as he listened to the phone buzz in his ear. "If you think you're talking me into letting you come over tonight, you're sorely mistaken." Shelly answered playfully.

"It's me Shell."

"Oh." Shelly replied in almost a sad tone when she realized it wasn't Dean. "Hey."

"Look, about earlier."

"Don't worry about it." Shelly stopped him, "It was a long time ago."

"Still, I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Shelly said letting her anger start to get the better of her, "Sorry for nearly kissing me today after you suddenly walked out of my life for no reason?"

"I had my reasons."

"None of which you would explain to me."

"I'm sorry Shelly, I really am. I didn't mean to hurt you."

Shelly mustered her temper. She'd promised herself the minute she saw him that she wouldn't let him see how much he'd hurt her. But he already knew, and he hated himself for it. "I don't want an apology Sam," Shelly said quietly, "I want an explanation."

Sam rubbed his now pounding head. "Shelly," he hesitated, "It's..."

"Complicated." Shelly offered, "I know. Everything always is with you."

Sam and Shelly vented their frustrations in unison with matching sighs and the line went quiet until Shelly heard a noise come from across the room. "What was that?" She wondered aloud.

"What was what?"

"Nothing." Shelly said shaking her head, "I just thought I heard… never mind."

"Thought you heard what?" Sam asked pulling himself to a sitting position.

"There it is again."

"What is it Shelly?"

"Don't worry, I think it's just a mouse."

"You should get out of the house just to be safe." Sam said as he slipped his shoes on his feet.

"Hu-uh!" Shelly laughed, "I'm not getting off this bed if there's a rat under it. I'm barefoot right now."

"It might not be a rat."

"You mean the bogeyman? But I thought you said that thing couldn't leave the house."

Sam's heart began to race as he scrambled to find Dean's keys. "I don't think so, but we don't want to find out do we? Please, just wait for me outside. I'm coming right now."

"Ok." Shelly agreed and then gasped into the phone.

"Shelly?"

"Sam!" Shelly screamed into the phone and then the line went dead.

"Shelly!"

Sam continued to scream into the phone as he raced out the door leaving it hanging wide open behind him. Seconds later a dripping-wet Dean wrapped in a towel poked his head out the bathroom door. "Sammy?"

Dean scanned the room and walked over to the open door just in time to see his Impala burn rubber on the pavement as it screeched out of the parking lot. "Crap!"

Dean reached for his gun and the first pair of shorts he could find and then went running down the street after his brother.

Minutes later Sam grabbed the loaded shotgun from the trunk of the car and burst into Shelly's apartment. "Shelly?"

"Sam! I'm back here!" she screamed.

Sam ran to the bedroom to find things flying about in a whirlwind. "Help me!" Shelly screamed.

Sweat was dripping down Shelly's face as she used every ounce of muscle she had to hold the closet door closed. Whatever was behind it was fighting desperately to escape. "I can't hold it much longer!"

Sam stood in front of her and took aim at the closet. "On the count of three, jump!"

Shelly nodded as she continued to hold back the monster. "One." Sam cocked the shotgun. "Two."

Shelly prepared herself to leap out of the way but before Sam could say three she lost her footing and the closet door flew open throwing her across the room. She hit her head on the corner of the dresser and fell to the ground unconscious as Sam blasted the shotgun into the closet.

Shelly was right about the creature being small. Sam's aim was too high and the rock salt flew over its head blowing tiny holes into the back of the closet. The creature laughed its sinister laugh as Sam cocked the gun again and then it grabbed his foot sending him crashing to the ground.

The monster laughed as it dug its claws into Sam's leg. Sam screamed out in pain as he felt his skin being torn open. He let go of the gun to grab his throbbing leg and the creature began pulling him into the closet, laughing as he recited his eerie poem.

"Baby, baby, naught baby,  
Hush! you squalling thing, I say;  
Peace this instant! Peace! or maybe  
Bonaparte will pass this way."

Sam let go of his leg and reached for the shotgun that was just out of his grasp. He stretched his arms its direction and the tips of his fingers could almost grasp it. He struggled to gain just one more inch when he felt the creature's claws climb up his leg and he screamed out again trying to wrestle the creature off him.

"Baby, baby, if he hears you  
As he gallops past the house,  
Limb from limb at once he'll tear you  
Just as pussy tears a mouse." 

Sam looked into the fierce glowing eyes and balled up his fist. "The hell you will!" he grumbled and then swung with all his strength.

For a split second the creature lost its grip and Sam grabbed the gun. As he pulled it into his arms the monster squealed in anger and jumped at Sam sinking its claws into Sam's shoulder. Sam felt the warmth of fresh blood as the creature slashed through his shirt and left it's mark across his chest. Seeing Sam's pain brought the laugh back to the monster.

"And he'll beat you, beat you, beat you,  
And he'll beat you all to pap:  
And he'll eat you, eat you, eat you,  
Gobble you, gobble you, snap! snap! snap!"

"Eat this!" Sam growled as he struggled to aim the gun.

He pulled the trigger, missing the creature and blasting the shelf above his head. The shelf collapsed sending a pair of boots, a hat and other miscellaneous items crashing down on him. Something very hard and heavy fell on Sam's head leaving a small gash above his eye and knocking him out cold.

The creature suddenly jumped off of Sam and squealed again, this time as if he were in pain. In a flash of light the wind in the room stopped blowing and all went quiet. All signs of the bogeyman were gone.

Sam awoke minutes later to the sound of Dean's voice calling his name as she shook him. "Sam! Sammy wake up!"

He looked startled at first until his eyes rested on Shelly. She was sitting on her bed holding a towel to her head. "I'm fine." She smiled.

"How about you?" Dean said wiping away the blood that was trickling into Sam's eye.

Sam took a second to get his bearings. His entire body hurt, but he knew he would be ok. "I've been worse off." He said attempting to sit up.

He winced in pain and Dean immediately pushed him back down. "Just hold up for a minute little brother. You took a pretty bad beating."

"What took you so long?" Sam laughed and then coughed when it hurt.

"Dude, how fast can you run two miles? And what were you thinking leaving without me? If you hurt my car you're gonna wish that creepy little bitch killed you."

"So how'd you get rid of it?"

Dean looked at his brother wondering if that blow to his head knocked his brain lose. "What are you talking about?"

"The bogeyman. How'd you get rid of it?"

"I didn't. I came in and found the two of you napping like its Sunday morning."

"Then where'd it go?"

Dean looked down at the gun on the floor. "Didn't you shoot it?"

Sam shook his head and looked around trying to figure out what happened until he found the horseshoe that had fallen on his head sitting in his lap. "What is it?" Dean asked as he stared at the old trophy.

"Horseshoes." Sam whispered as his brain wheeled a million miles a minute.

"What about 'em?"

"They're good luck." Sam explained, "A lot of European folklore says that they can repel evil. People used to hang them over the doors to their homes so that evil spirits couldn't cross the threshold."

"Do you think that really works?"

"It would explain why it disappeared."

Dean grabbed the horseshoe from Sam. "Well then, we'll just take this back with us." Dean said as he helped Sam to his feet. He noticed a Shelly's old cowgirl hat and lasso lying on the floor. He grinned as he put the hat on his head and held out the lasso. "Maybe we should bring this with us too."


	8. Cursed

Chapter 8: Cursed 

The lucky horseshoe that nearly gave Sam a concussion now hung above the hotel closet. Others hung above the doors to the bathroom and the outside, and Dean stood on a chair nailing one above the window. "You know you really only needed one of those." Sam smirked.

"I don't want to take any chances." Dean shrugged climbing down from his chair, "I'm to pretty to end up looking like you."

Dean laughed at himself and was a little disappointed when neither Shelly nor Sam seemed to appreciate his humor. He turned around to see what they were doing and his smile faded when he saw his brother. Sam sat on the edge of his bed trying not to wince as Shelly swabbed alcohol over the cut on his head. "Sorry." She whispered.

Sam offered her a weak smile but it didn't really make her feel any better. Dean watched the body language behind the interaction and decided that it might be a good time to get lost for a few minutes. "Ok," He said making sure that the shot gun was fully loaded, "I'm gonna run out, pick up a few things. If that closet so much as creeks, blast the hell out of it."

"Pick up what?" Sam asked as Shelly covered the wound with a butterfly strip.

"I dunno, stuff." Dean shrugged as he gestured with a suggestive look toward the beautiful woman dressing Sam's cut.

Sam glared at Dean but it only made his grin even wider. Shelly noticed the look on Sam's face, unaware of Dean, and drew back. "Am I hurting you?" She asked shyly.

"No." Sam said with a nervous smile, "It's fine."

Shelly smiled back at him and then blew on the cut to dry the liquid around it. Dean raised an eyebrow and tried not to smirk too much. "I'll take my time." He said playfully and then disappeared.

Shelly looked over at the door as it closed and then back to Sam who shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. "I'm sorry." She finally said, breaking the new silence.

"For what?" 

"For getting mad in the car… and on the phone. I was the one who asked you to come."

"You asked Dean to come, you didn't know that meant me too."

"Still, I was out of line and then you turned around and saved my life." Shelly's eyes wandered from the cut above Sam's eyes to his shredded, bloodstained shirt. "And you nearly got yourself killed in the process."

Sam glanced down at his chest and shrugged. "I've taken worse beatings."

"I'd believe that." Shelly sighed, "But still, I should take a look at it."

Sam gulped back his nerves when Shelly slowly removed his tattered shirt. He thought of the many times she'd done this very same act only under completely different circumstances and his eyes finally lifted to meet hers. Minus the gaping wound and all the blood, the sexual tension was thick enough to slice into and spread like butter. Both could feel it and deep down both wanted to give in to it, but Sam would never let it happen. He attempted to lighten the mood a little with a question that had been on his mind for some time now, partially to break the growing tension and partially to mask the pain he felt as Shelly gently swabbed the cuts on his chest. "SO." He grunted through clenched teeth, "What's going on with you and Dean?"

The question surprised Shelly and forced redness into her cheeks. Sam smiled when she blushed and continued to harass her. "Did you guys hook up last time he was here?"

"No!" Shelly replied quickly.

"No?" Sam laughed, "So this afternoon was just…"

"It was nothing ok? Can we please stop talking about this?"

"Ok, just tell me one thing?"

Shelly looked at him curiously as she reached for the bottle of rubbing alcohol again. Sam tried to hold a serious look but smirked. "I'm the better kisser, right?"

Shell's crimson cheeks turned deep purple and as she stood there horrified she didn't bother to hold back the amount of alcohol that fell over Sam's chest."

Sam jerked from the shock but laughed through the burning sensation. "Ok, you're right I'm sorry."

"Hold that." Shelly snapped as she placed a large gauze pad over the wound.

Sam calmed his giggles and the serious look returned to his face as Shelly taped the bandage in place. "Seriously though, Shell, I can't picture you with a guy like Dean."

"I don't know. I guess part of me just…" Shelly hesitated but couldn't resist Sam's puppy dog eyes so she released a long, woeful sigh. "Part of me just wanted to make you jealous."

Sam stared at Shelly, shocked by the depth of her feelings for him. She watched him piece together her secret and her hands began to shake as she continued to bandage him up. Their eyes locked and Shelly couldn't take it anymore and ever so slowly, leaned in.

Sam held his breath as Shelly's lips moved closer and closer to his. For a moment he was powerless to stop her. When she kissed him he gave in, letting old feelings resurface, but when passion began to take over his logic, he pulled himself away. "Shelly." He whispered as he placed his steady hand over her trembling one. "I can't do this."

Shelly watched Sam's expression turn distant and she knew he was fighting suppressed feelings. "Why?"

"Sam?" Shelly pleaded again, pulling him from his memories, "We were happy together. Why did you break up with me?"

"Because I was scared."

"We're not kids anymore Sam. There's nothing to be afraid of anymore."

Sam wished more than anything that that was true, but as he looked at Shelly all he could see were the haunting images of his last romance. His mouth dropped open but he couldn't find the words to explain the curse he believed he suffered from. Once upon a time Sam had cared very deeply for Shelly, but that was a long time ago and Jess's death was still too fresh in his memory. He believed Jessica was taken from him because of his feelings for her and he couldn't let that happen to Shelly too; his heart couldn't take it. He looked away, not wanting to see the hurt he was causing. "I'm sorry Shelly, but I just can't."

Tears glossed Shelly's eyes as she drew back. Sam shrugged helplessly as he forced a sad smile and Shelly slowly nodded. "You should try and get some rest." She said as she picked up the open first aid kit.

"You too."

Shelly disappeared into the bathroom and when she returned a minute later Sam was fast asleep. She watched him for a moment enjoying the way he seemed so relaxed. She had a feeling that might be the only time he ever truly felt that way. With a heavy sigh, and wishing she could climb into his arms, she turned out the lights and went to sleep, alone.

An hour or two later Dean finally strolled back in completely exhausted after the world's longest day. He crept in slowly, not wanting to disturb what he assumed would be his brother and Shelly sleeping peacefully in each other's arms, and frowned when he flipped on the bathroom light. There was his brother, sleeping above the covers with his pants still on and sure enough, Shelly was tucked snugly in the other bed. Dean rolled his eyes feeling disappointed in his little brother and yet not the least bit surprised. He shifted his eyes back and forth between the two again and grumbled quietly to himself. "Nah you guys it's alright. Don't worry about me or anything, I'm good with sleeping on the floor."

The hours passed as the three of them caught up on some much-needed sleep, but when daylight began to wake up the city of Detroit, everything remained dark in the cheap motel room. Sam rested peacefully until the room started to heat up around him. He twitched when a single drop of liquid splashed his forehead and when a second hit his eyes finally pulled open.

Horrified by what he was above him, he began thrashing but was unable to lift himself from his bed. She was pinned to the ceiling just as his mother had been all those years before. Her skin was pale and her eyes dark. She gasped for breath after painful breath but couldn't call out to him for help.

Sam's eyes grew wide as her clothes turned red from the blood that was now pouring from her abdomen. He tried to reach out for her but his arms were being held to the bed by an invisible force. This was it. The yellow-eyed demon was taking her, and Sam was powerless to stop it. "No!" he screamed, "No!" but it did no good.

Suddenly the ceiling burst into roaring flames that seemed to explode into the very pits of hell. Sam met the familiar glowing eyes of his haunting demon and his heart stopped when the man smiled at him, enjoying the pain he was causing. "No!" Sam screamed again. The Demon laughed and then the flames engulfed her completely causing the room around him to explode. Then suddenly all was quiet.

Sam's eyes flew open and he shot straight up in bed, drenched in his own sweat as if the flames he'd imagined had really been there. He took a minute to slow his breathing when he realized were he was. He looked up to see Dean watching him with concern and Shelly staring at him in fear. "Sam?" she whispered, "Are you alright?"

Sam flinched at the sound of her voice but then ran his fingers through his damp hair. "It was just a dream."

Sam looked at the two other people in the room who were waiting for more of an explanation. He didn't want to relive it again verbally, so he slowly pulled himself from bed and headed toward the bathroom without saying a word. He met Dean's questioning look as he passed and responded with the obvious, "I'm fine."

"You sure?" Dean asked with a quick glance at Shelly and no hints of play in his voice, "It was just a dream?"

Sam knew his brother was worried that this dream may have meant something more, but they weren't about to discuss Sam's unique situation in the company of a stranger. He glanced back at Shelly too but then nodded to Dean. "Just a dream."

"That's weird. You haven't dreamt of Jess in months."

Sam glared at his brother, not wanting to explain himself, and he disappeared into the bathroom without a word. Dean released a sigh when he heard the shower turn on. As much as it hurt to see his brother's pain, he was relieved that that's all it was.

These visions Sam had been having lately scared the hell out of Dean. They were something that couldn't be explained or prevented and they were becoming more frequent. They not only made Dean feel helpless in protecting Sammy, but they seemed to be a barrier between them. The premonitions were something Sam was going through on his own and no matter how much Dean wanted bare the burden for him, he couldn't. The most he could do is be strong for him, and not let him know just how much they upset him.

"What happened to him?"

Dean shook himself free of his depressing thoughts and sent a shrug to Shelly. "What do you mean?"

"He's so… reserved, so guarded now. He didn't used to be that way."

Dean watched Shelly curiously for a moment and then cracked a smile. "So it was his fault you slept in separate beds last night."

Shelly glared at Dean as she blushed. Dean playfully slumped his arm over Shelly's shoulder. "Don't take it personally Shell, Sammy wouldn't know a come-on if it bit him in the persqueeter."

Shelly smiled, remembering how shy Sam was the first time he kissed her. "That's not what I was talking about." She said, nudging him softly, "Back when we were, uh… Well, before, he was always so open with me. He used to tell me everything that was on his mind."

"Yeah, that sounds like Sam. He's always trying to talk about pansy stuff like that."

"Not anymore. Now all he ever says is, 'it's complicated.'"

Dean sighed knowing the feeling of frustration in Shelly's voice all too well. It was only fair to let Shelly know why Sam is the way he is. "Well, it's not entirely his fault. Ever since Jess, things have been a lot more complicated for him."

"Who's Jess?"

"Jessica. She was his girlfriend at Stanford."

"Was?"

"Yeah, was. She was killed by the same thing that killed our mother."

Shelly looked at the bathroom suddenly feeling terrible about the night before. "That's why he didn't go to law school." Shelly said more to herself than to Dean as she began to put the pieces together.

"He's been hunting the damn thing with me ever since. He's got the idea in that crazy little head of his that Jess's death was his fault. Like he's cursed or something."

Dean was surprised to hear Shelly laugh. "Something funny?"

"Oh, no. It's nothing; it's just, Sammy thinking he's cursed. It sounds a lot like my Dad's wife."

Dean was so surprised by Shelly's comment that he literally did a double take and then stared at her as if she were in trouble. "What do you mean your step mom thinks she's cursed?"

"Uh, well…" Shelly stumbled over her words flustered by the sudden interrogation.

"Is she?"

"What, cursed?" Shelly laughed until she saw the seriousness in Dean's eyes. "Of course she's not cursed. People can't be cursed Dean."

"Just like there's no such thing as the bogeyman?"

Shelly looked up at Dean with wide eyes, but he didn't have time to wait for her to catch up. "Why does she think she's cursed?"

"I don't know the whole story, but she says her family was always cursed with really bad luck and then her husband died in some freak accident. She said it was the curse that killed him and she thought his ghost was haunting their old house so they moved, and that's when she met my dad."

Dean was completely flabbergasted by what he was hearing, and he looked at Shelly as if she were crazy. "You never thought to tell us this before?"

"Tell you what Dean? Cursed with bad luck? The guy fell off the roof of his house and Karen was distraught. It was just an accident, nothing else."

"Yeah, maybe." Dean said as he reached for his jacket. "Or maybe it was something else."

"Do you really think it's connected?"

"There's only one way to find out." Dean grabbed his keys and pounded on the bathroom door. "Sammy! Get a move on it. We gotta go!"


	9. Haunted

Chapter 9: Haunted 

A ragged looking Mitch Halloway stood from the bench outside his stepson's hospital room, a surprised smile sweeping across his face, when he saw Sam and Dean approaching him. Karen warily joined her husband and waited for an introduction. "Dean, it's good to see you again, and Sam, it's been years! What brings you boys out to Michigan?"

"I called them actually," Shelly said stepping in to give her father a hug. "I thought maybe they could help us with Jeremy."

Mitch's smile faded and his eyes darted curiously back and forth between Sam and Dean. "You boys really think there's something going on here. Something like…" Mitch glanced at his wife, "Well, something up your ally?"

Sam and Dean exchanged awkward glances and Sam's hand subconsciously found it's way to the scratches hidden beneath his shirt. "I think there's a pretty good chance." He said slowly.

"Do you know what it is?"

"Know what, what is? Mitch? What's going on here?"

"I'm sorry hun." Mitch said pulling his wife to his side. "These boys are old friends of mine."

Sam smiled softly at the tired woman and gently took her hand in his. "Mrs. Halloway my name is Sam, and this is my brother Dean. We're here to help."

Karen's eyes glossed over again as she shook Sam's hand. "That's really kind of you, but how can you help my son? Are you doctors?"

"Not exactly."

Sam and Dean both looked to Mitch for direction and he in turn smiled at his wife. "They're ghost hunters."

Sam and Dean were shocked to hear the truth come out of Mitch's mouth and their eyes grew as wide as they physically could. "Don't worry guys," Mitch laughed when he watched their faces go pale. "Karen understands a little about this stuff. In fact that's probably why we hit it off so well." He explained, "After what happened with my first wife and her first husband, we had something in common."

Karen offered the boys a weak shrug and Sam and Dean returned the stare with awkward smiles. Mitch slipped his arm around her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek as he continued to smile at his visitors. "These boys and their dad helped me when Barb died." Mitch explained to his wife, "They stopped the haunting; helped put her soul to rest. We've been good friends ever since." Mitch's manner changed suddenly and he looked at the boys with sad eyes. "I was sorry to hear about John, he was a good man. You know if you boys ever need anything, you're always welcome."

Sam and Dean nodded gratefully and suddenly didn't know how to break the awkward silence. Karen decided to be the brave one and smiled at both Sam and Dean. "It's very nice of you to want to help," she said, "But why do you think any of that has to do with Jeremy?"

"Ma'am," Dean said calmly, "We think your son saw what happened to his brother. He might be able to help us figure out what happened to Brent."

"You think something happened to Brent? You think some evil spirit took my son?"

Dean shrugged helplessly, not wanting to tell her that it was worse, he thought some evil spirit _**killed **_her son. Mrs. Halloway clasped her hand over her mouth and more tears fell from her cheeks. "We don't know anything for sure right now." Sam cut in, helping Karen take a seat on the bench and propping himself right beside her. "That's what we're here to find out."

"And in order to do so, I really need to talk to Jeremy."

Karen looked up at Dean with lifeless eyes and then glanced at the door to Jeremy's room. Mitch took a seat on the other side of Karen and nodded his approval to Dean. "I don't think it will do you much good, but you can try."

Dean nodded to Sam and then he and Shelly disappeared into Jeremy's room. Karen watched them until the door was shut and then looked back into Sam's sympathetic eyes. "Mrs. Halloway," Sam said softly, "Shelly mentioned something about a curse, what can you tell me about it?"

"You'll just think I'm crazy."

"Try me." Sam replied with a hint of a laugh.

"I am cursed. First it took my husband, and now look what it's done to my boys."

Karen broke into sobs and Mitch wrapped his arms around her. Sam could feel his own eyes starting to burn and tried to stay focused. "Mrs. Halloway," He whispered, "I believe you.

Mrs. Halloway took comfort in the sincerity of Sam's voice and her body eased up just a little. "Believe it or not I know what it feels like to lose everyone you love." Sam now fought his own emotions, "I know it's hard, but if you want to find out what happened and help Jeremy get better, then I need you to tell me everything you know about this curse."

Karen got her sobs under control and released a heavy sigh as her mind filtered through its memory. "I always thought it was just a story that my grandmother used to tell me when I was a kid." She wiped away the rest of her tears as she fell into the story. "I grew up in London, but my grandmother owned this estate in Northern England. It'd been in the family for generations and I spent most of my summers there as a kid. My granny would always tell me how the house was cursed with bad luck."

Karen smiled briefly at the memories and Sam found himself smiling along with her. "Go on." He urged softly.

"The house was huge, and old, you know? A lot of strange things used to happen there."

"What kind of strange things?"

"Weird noises mostly, a lot of strange sounds, and things would go missing. We'd find them days later in the most random places as if someone was hiding them on purpose. Things broke a lot. The garden never grew no matter how much time Grammy spent taking care of it, and the animals would act up sometimes for no reason."

"Act up how?"

"We'll they'd be spooked. The dogs would bark at nothing. The chickens would stop laying eggs for days at a time, and the horses would be tired in the morning as if someone had been riding them all night long."

"So, if it was just the house that was cursed, then what happened to your husband?"

"Well when Grammy died, my parents didn't want to have anything to do with the house, it creeped them out too much. And I, of course, didn't believe in a silly curse, so Peter and I moved in. He was a contractor, so were gonna fix up the place and then sell it. We were only there about six months."

"How did he die?"

"He was patching holes in the roof, and someone had moved the ladder."

"What do you mean someone moved it?"

"I mean one minute it was leaning against the side of the house where he'd climbed up it, and the next it was clear on the other side of the house stacked on top pf the highest chimney."

"The chimney?"

Karen shrugged helplessly. "It's never made any sense to me. The kids we at school and I was in the garden. There wasn't anybody else there that could have moved it, and it was just out of David's reach. Anyway, he tried to get it down and slipped. Doctor's said the fall broke his neck.

Karen's eyes glossed over once again and she squeezed her husband's hand tightly. Sam felt awful for her, but was intrigued by her story. The more he heard, the more he was knew everything was connected, he just wasn't sure how yet. He offered a small smile and gave her a minute to cry before asking more questions, but he need to know more.

Dean and Shelly slowly entered Jeremy's room, surprised to find the little boy awake. He lied there very still and only his eyes moved towards them when they approached. Shelly saw the hint of recognition spark in his eyes but she wasn't greeted with the same enthusiastic hug she normally got, she didn't even get a smile. She tried her best not to get emotional, fearing that would only make the boy feel worse and she pulled up a chair next to his bedside. "Hey squirt." She whispered with a soft smile. "Did ya miss me?"

Dean watched the boy closely, studying his every move. He could tell the boy wanted to talk. He seemed happy to see Shelly, but just to afraid to let himself relax. It was awful to see him so traumatized and Dean felt a sudden new urge to kill the nasty son of a bitch that did this as quickly as he could. "Hi Jeremy."

The boy flinched at the sound of Dean's voice and seemed to scream to Shelly for help with his eyes. "It's ok, you don't have to be scared." She assured him, "This is Dean. He's a really good friend of mine."

Jeremy's eyes drifted to the stranger again and Dean offered him a sincere smile. He waited until he seemed to have a little of Jeremy's trust before pulling up a chair next to Shelly. Jeremy watched him sit down and then reached out for Shelly's hand. Both Shelly and Dean were relieved by the action. Even as insignificant as it may seem, if the boy was willing to interact with them at all, then he may be of some use in solving the mystery. "I'm Dean." Dean began again when the boy was feeling a little more relaxed, "I want to make it so that you don't have to be afraid anymore, but in order to do that I need your help."

Jeremy was surprised by Dean and Dean looked into his curious little eyes with a smile. "Do you feel like talking to me?"

Jeremy's eyes grew wide and then he quickly pinched them shut and shook his head. "That's ok." Dean said, "You don't have to say any words, maybe you could just nod your head yes or no. Think you could do that for me?"

Jeremy slowly opened his eyes again and looked to Shelly for help. "It's ok sweetie." She said brushing the hair from his face with her free hand.

Jeremy looked back to Dean and cautiously nodded a yes. "That's good. It's really brave of you."

Dean was thrilled when Jeremy hinted at a proud smile. The smile nearly made Shelly's eyes fill with tears and she was amazed at the magic touch Dean had with the boy. "You're brother didn't run away from home like they said, did he?"

Jeremy pinched his eyes shut again at the mention of his brother and tears began to fall from them as he tightened his grip on Shelly's hand. "It's ok to be scared Jeremy," Dean continued, "Monsters are pretty scary guys."

Jeremy's eyes popped open again and Dean suddenly had his full attention. "That's right." Dean nodded, "I know about all about the monster in your closet. I bet the nurses here tell you there's no such thing as monsters, don't they?"

Dean smiled when Jeremy nodded his head curiously. "But they're wrong, aren't they?"

Jeremy was shocked that this strange adult was on his side, and even though he was talking about monsters being real, the fact that he knew it made it not quite as scary as it had been just moments before and he nodded his head again. "Did you see what happened to your brother?" Jeremy swallowed hard and then slowly shook his head. "But you know what took him?"

Jeremy nodded his head yes and Dean and Shelly glanced nervously at one another. Dean fished through his pocket and pulled out a small chain. "I've got something for you." He said holding the necklace out to the boy.

Jeremy looked at the chain but didn't reach out for it. Dean held it up so that Jeremy could see the small horseshoe charm that hung on the end of it. "Do you know what this is?" Dean said, "It's a lucky horseshoe. And I happen to know that your monster is as afraid of this as you are of it."

Jeremy looked at the chain and then to Dean again with hope in his eyes. Dean held the chain closer to the boy, urging him to grab it. "Go ahead. I brought it especially for you. I promise it will keep you safe. You know how I know that?"

The boy shook his head, desperate to hear the answer. "I know it works because last night your monster tried to get my baby brother, just like it went after your brother, but Sammy is really smart and he used one of these to scare the monster away before it could get him. If you wear this, then I promise whatever it is you saw, won't be able to hurt you."

Jeremy watched Dean intently and finally held his hand out. Dean placed the necklace in his hand and then closed the little boys fingers over the charm. "Now Jeremy," He said calmly, "I need you to be really brave and tell me about the thing that took your brother so that I can find it and stop it before it hurts anyone else. I can make it go away forever, but not if I don't know what it is."

Jeremy lied there for a moment darting his eyes back and forth between Shelly and Dean and then slipped the necklace into Shelly's hand. "No sweetheart, that's for you so that you'll be safe."

"He won't hurt me." Jeremy whispered so faintly that neither Shelly nor Dean actually understood him.

Both were amazed to hear anything come from the boy at all and after doing a double take, Dean turned back to Jeremy. "What was that?"

"I want Shelly to have it." Jeremy said, a tiny bit louder this time, "He won't hurt me."

"Why won't he hurt you?"

"Because he said I'm his friend. He didn't used to be so mean. We played lots of fun games together but Brent said he wasn't real and he didn't like it. I told Brent to be nice to me or it would make him mad, but he wouldn't listen."

Shelly was no longer able to hold back her tears and she got up from her chair so that Jeremy wouldn't see how scared she was. Dean took a moment to pull himself together on the inside. He put the chain over Jeremy's head and said, "Don't you worry about Shelly, I'll make sure nothing happens to her, but you hang on to this just incase. Now, can you tell me about your friend?"

Jeremy shook his head forcefully and pulled his covers back up to his chin. "He said he doesn't like it when I tell people about him. I don't want to make him mad again."

Dean sat back in his chair not knowing where to go from here. The boy was right about not wanting to make whatever the hell it was mad again. Dean had no idea what would happen if he did and he feared it might try to go after Jeremy next. Lucky horseshoe or not, Dean didn't want to risk it. "Ok," he said, "You're right, we don't want to make him mad again."

Jeremy watched Dean with terror in his eyes as he and Shelly headed for the door. "Where are you going?"

Dean stopped dead in his tracks. Part of him didn't want to leave the frightened boy, but he couldn't stay. "We're going to go find your friend and make sure that he never comes back, ever again. You sit tight and keep that horseshoe close."

"Please don't leave me alone." The boy pleaded, tears filling his eyes again.

Shelly rushed to his bedside and gave him a comforting hug. "You're not alone." She said spilling tears of her own, "Your mom and my dad are right outside. I'll send them in ok?"

Jeremy hugged Shelly tightly and nodded his head one last time. Dean smiled at the kid before leaving the room, "You be brave now, and I'll be back soon. In the mean time, you'd better start talking to you mom. I bet she'd really like that."

Dean and Shelly said quick goodbyes to Mitch and Karen before sending them in to see Jeremy. Once they were gone, Sam and Dean turned to one another and in unison said, "We need to talk."


	10. Bogarts

Chapter 10: Bogarts

"We have a problem." Dean said as he slammed the door to the Impala. He waited for Sam and Shelly to get situated before speeding out of the parking lot.

"Dude," Sam said reaching up to grab the handle above his window as Dean squealed around a corner, "Where are we going?"

"Breakfast." Dean shrugged.

"Do we have to win a road rally to get there?"

Dean frowned innocently and then shrugged, "I'm starving. It's like ten o'clock already."

Sam smirked with a dramatic roll of his eyes. "So what's this problem?"

"Jeremy isn't going to be any help. He won't tell us about this thing and frankly I can't blame him. It's like some kind of imaginary friend gone Fatal Attraction. He said the thing went after his brother because he was being mean to Jeremy. He doesn't want to talk about him because he's afraid it will come after us next."

"He's probably right."

"Why? Do you know what this thing is?"

"Not exactly, but I think I know where to start looking."

Dean gave Sam an expectant look and Sam shrugged. "It sounds like it's some sort of pixie." He shrugged.

Dean just looked confused for a moment, having no idea what a pixie is. "A pixie?" Shelly repeated, sounding equally as confused. "Isn't that just another name for a fairy?"

"It's a type of fairy, yes."

"A fairy?" Dean repeated in disbelief, "Are you kidding me?"

Sam shrugged, forcing Dean to burst into laughter. "So you're telling me you got the crap kicked out of you by a sparkly little hot chick with wings and a magic wand?"

"Not all fairies are like Tinkerbelle, Dean."

Dean smiled at the mention of the Disney favorite. "That's too bad," he smirked, "Cause she is one smokin' hot chick."

"She's a cartoon." Shelly laughed.

"She's still hot."

Shelly frowned and Sam tried not to, but he laughed at Dean's absurdity. Minutes later they were being shown to a booth. The boys each took a seat across from one another and Shelly suddenly found herself confused as to which side of the table she should sit on. Dean smirked when he saw her predicament, but Sam was already reaching for his computer, completely clueless. Finally Shelly chose to sit next to Sam, and when she scooted up next to him he moved over to give her room without ever looking up, not realizing that she's gotten close to him on purpose.

Dean sat back and watched, completely amused by Shelly's failed attempts for Sam's attention. He giggled at the annoyed look on Shelly's face and shrugged playfully when she glared at him. With a sigh, Shelly looked at the open laptop and pushed it closed. "Do you ever just eat breakfast?" she asked when Sam looked at her confused.

Sam was taken aback by the question and the look on his face was so priceless that Dean finally burst into laughter. After sending Dean an icy glare, Sam forced an awkward smile to Shelly and slowly slipped his computer back in its case. "That's better," she said, pushing her menu in front of him.

Sam felt her inch closer to him and was never more relieved to see a waiter in all his life.

After Dean ordered just about everything on the breakfast menu he watched his brother squirm nervously in his seat for a minute and then decided to throw him a bone. "So, what makes you think killer Tinkerbelle has latched herself onto Jeremy?"

"Because that's what pixies do. Well, not the killing part, that's new, but they latch onto families and cause all kinds of mischief." Sam said with renewed excitement, relieved by the onset of conversation. "And their pranks usually target the most unruly of the group."

Sam frowned when he was met with two very skeptical looks. "Think about it," he began again, "Pixies originated in Europe, mainly Ireland, Whales and Northern England."

"That's where Karen is from."

"I know, and that curse she told me about? It doesn't sound like a curse to me at all; it sounds more like a haunting. Her bad luck isn't bad luck."

"It's just a bunch of pranks?" Shelly asked as she began to put the pieces together.

"Exactly."

"Well that doesn't make any sense." Dean argued, "Karen said her family's been cursed for generations. The damn thing wouldn't follow her across the sea, it would stay with the house it haunted."

"It would if the family left the house for good. Pixies are notorious for driving families so crazy that they move to get away from it, but the joke is that the pixies pack up and go with them. It's like their best prank."

Dean thought about it for a moment until a giant plate of food was placed in front of him and he suddenly lost his train of thought. Once he had a few bites in his growling stomach, he looked back at his brother. "Ok then," he said, shoving another huge bite of food into his mouth, "How do we kill it?"

"Well that's where it gets tricky."

"Tricky how?"

"There are a lot of different types of pixies, each with their own lore on the subject. I don't know what kind we're dealing with. I've never heard of one so evil."

"You know," Dean said forcing the food in his mouth to one side in order to talk, "I find the fact that you know so much about fairies kind of disturbing."

"I took a mythology class." Sam said defensively, "I thought it was kind of appropriate considering the family business."

"Alright, alright." Dean chuckled, "So let's just start with all the kinds of pixies that have the potential to be nasty and we'll narrow it down."

"That's just the thing, there's only one way to make a pixie get nasty."

"What's that?"

"Well old English folklore says that if you give your pixie a name, they turn into something called a bogart."

"What's a bogart?"

"It's sort of the black sheep of the pixie family. They're evil sons of bitches. Instead of pulling pranks on the naughty people, they start punishing them, and they have a demonic taste for torture."

"So they just give the bastard a name and the damn thing turns into Freddy?"

"Basically," Sam shrugged, "And naming a pixie is the only way to create a bogart, but that's what has me stumped. Karen had no idea what she was dealing with. She thought she was cursed with bad luck so she couldn't have given it a name. There has to be some other type of pixie that I don't know about. Some other reason for its turning evil all the sudden."

"Oh God." Shelly whispered, forcing both Sam and Dean to question her with worried looks. "Bogey."

"Huh?" Dean asked.

"Shelly, what is it?" Sam said in a much softer tone.

"It was Jeremy. I practically forced him to do it."

"What are you talking about?"

Shelly's eyes filled with tears and Sam felt her body shiver next to his. He instinctively put his arm around her and squeezed her tightly. "This weekend I went out to see my dad and Karen for sort of an early anniversary dinner. While I was there Jeremy told me all about this imaginary friend. I thought it was cute so I asked him what his name was and he told me he didn't have one." Shelly's voice cracked as horrific guilt settled into her heart. "I told him that he couldn't have an imaginary friend without a name and said he should pick one for him."

"It's not your fault." Sam whispered pulling Shelly further into his arms. "You didn't know."

"He said he was going to call him Bogey because he lived in his closet just like the bogeyman except that Bogey was nice. I told him it was a great name and said I was happy he was there because then he would scare off the real bogeyman."

Shelly finally broke out into sobs, burying her face in Sam's shoulder as she cried. Sam felt awful for her but pulled her away from him and forced her to look into his eyes. "You can't blame yourself." He said, "And at least now we know exactly what we're dealing with."

"Yeah," Dean added, "And now we can kill it."

"Not exactly." Sam said. "But we can send him back to hell where he belongs."

"What are you talking about?"

Sam looked at his brother and shrugged. "Pixies aren't your typical spirit per say, they're actually closer to demons."

"They're immortal?"

"Yup, and the only way to get rid of them is to call them out into the open and exercise the house, or in this case the closet, they live in."

"Well then," Dean said cleaning off the last few scraps on his plate, "What are we waiting for?"


	11. Goodbyes

Chapter 11: Goodbyes

Dean sped down the old highway toward the Halloway's house while Sam sifted through the pages of his dad's old journal. "Did you find anything?" Dean asked as he turned onto the main street of the small town.

"Not really." Sam frowned, "There are several exorcisms in here, but I'm not sure they will be enough to do the trick. I need one a little more specific to the European culture that Bogey comes from."

"Bogey?" Dean asked giving Sam a strange look. "You guys are one a first name basis now?"

"Hey Guys?"

"What else would you like me to call it? Killer Tinkerbelle?"

"Guys?"

"I don't know, it, monster, the thing, evil son of a bitch? Something… Just don't talk about it like it's your pet cat or something, that's creepy."

"Sam! Dean!"

Sam and Dean stopped arguing and gave each other confused looks when they saw the frustration on Shelly's face. Shelly rolled her eyes, glad that the pointless bickering had finally stopped and leaned forward in her seat with a smile. "I'll bet there's something in my father's library that will work. Karen collected all sorts of books when she was trying to figure out ways to get rid of her curse. She brought tons of them over from England with her. I know I've seen one all about exorcisms before."

"Alright." Dean said clapping his hands together anxiously, "Sam, you go find that book and Shelly and I will see if we can get the thing to come out of hiding."

Dean and Shelly hopped out of the car and began strapping weapons to them selves. Sam watched with concern as Shelly pulled her old lasso out of the trunk. "What are you gonna need that for?" Dean smirked, "You still thinking about playing cowboy?"

"Don't you wish?" Shelly laughed as she swung the rope over her shoulder, "I was actually thinking you could tie yourself to something this time so you don't get sucked into the closet again."

"You know that's not a bad idea Shell," Dean grinned boyishly as he pushed his pistol in his pants and grabbed his knife, "Although playing cowboys sounds like a lot more fun."

Sam joined them at the trunk and placed his hand on Shelly's shoulder. "Maybe you should wait out here for us." He said timidly, "I don't want you to get hurt."

"That's sweet of you Sam," Shelly replied, "But it's my fault that thing turned evil and the damn thing killed my step brother. Nobody wants to see it sent back to hell more than me. I'm coming with you."

Sam winced at the determination in Shelly's voice and he felt desperate to talk her out of it. "She's right Sammy." Dean assured him, "But don't worry, I've seen this little lady in action and she can definitely hold her own."

Sam frowned while Dean and Shelly walked into the house. He quickly strapped a couple of choice weapons to himself and grabbed his shotgun, slamming the trunk behind him. He hurried into the house behind his brother and once again stopped Shelly before she could walk up the stairs. "Look Sam," Shelly began when she saw the look in his eyes.

"Please Shelly, I just have a really bad feeling about this."

"It'll be ok."

"But that dream I had last night," Sam hesitated to finish his sentence, but he felt it had to be said. "It wasn't about Jess."

Dean's head whipped around to look his brother in the eyes, but Sam avoided his stare. This was a conversation he didn't want to have with his brother because he didn't want to worry him, but he knew there would be no avoiding it now.

Shelly didn't notice the tension levels rise between the brothers because she was too busy brushing off Sam's concern. "Not this again." She groaned.

"What do you mean again?" Dean asked stepping between Shelly and Sam, demanding an explanation.

Sam only glared at Dean but Shelly happily gave up the secret. "That's the reason Sam broke up with me. He kept having nightmares of me dying." Shelly turned her attention back to Sam. "They're just dreams." She pleaded, "They don't mean anything."

Dean was a little shocked to hear that Jess had not been the only girl Sam dreamt about and for a moment he was truly scared for Shelly's safety until he realized exactly what she said. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, broke up?"

"Yeah." Shelly said starting to get angry again as she remembered the day he said goodbye. "We were together for eight months, he has a couple bad dreams and suddenly he can't be in a relationship anymore?" Shelly looked back at Sam fighting hard against the tears that were stinging her eyes. "Then you just left. You went off to college and I never heard from you again."

"Trust me," Sam sighed feeling a tinge of guilt, "It was for the best."

Now Dean was truly baffled, "Eight months? Where was I during all this?" he snapped.

Dean wasn't sure what he was more angry about, the fact that his brother seemed to have this whole secret past that he wasn't willing to share, or the fact that he didn't tell him about the death visions of Shelly before now. Sam could feel Dean's anger rise and automatically became defensive. "You and Dad were always off on some hunt somewhere while I was in school." He said, beginning to raise his voice. "I practically raised myself my senior year. Dad never cared about anything I did, unless of course it got in the way of his plans."

"That's a bunch of crap Sammy!" Dean yelled becoming so angry he could almost punch the guy, "Dad always cared about what you did. It was you who never wanted us to be a part of your life."

"I didn't want to live the same kind of life. That's doesn't mean I didn't want you to be a part of it."

"Whatever dude." Dean muttered bitterly.

"Do you really think I hated you that much?" Sam asked, fighting back his emotions.

Dean shrugged. "Well you sure as hell never told me you had a girlfriend. In fact, you never told me anything. It's like you have this whole secret life that you kept hidden from me."

Sam looked at his feet and shrugged. "I didn't hide it, I just didn't think you'd care."

"Why not?"

"Because I wasn't learning to practice hoodoo or bow hunting, or some other kind of military freak survival crap. I wasn't exactly as exciting as you and dad. "

Dean calmed down, feeling a little sorry for Sam. It was true he never did quite fit in, in their deranged little family. It couldn't have exactly been easy on the guy. There was an awkward silence for a moment as Sam batted at a stray tear until Dean finally slapped his little brother on the back, a wide smirk spreading across his face, "My little brother's finally getting some play? Of course I'm interested."

Sam finally cracked a smile and Dean cast his eyes back and forth between Sam and Shelly. "Eight months huh?" He teased, "So then you two have totally uh… you know?"

"Would you get your mind out of the gutter please Dean?" Sam said trying not to play into his brother's game.

Dean raised his eyebrows playfully at the guilty couple. "At a boy Sammy, you sly dog." He laughed, and then had another genius thought, "So was she your first?"

"Dean." Sam said again, glaring through the redness that frosted his cheeks, "Can we please just go send this bogart to hell already?"

Dean's grin turned into a pout and he gave a sarcastic salute. "It's a miracle you ever get laid." He grumbled under his breath as he turned to the stairs.

Sam put his hand gently on Shelly's shoulder again. "I was serious about not wanting you to go up there Shell." He whispered in one last-ditch effort.

Dean looked at Sam completely serious, now that he knew where these feelings of worry were coming from. "I'll keep her safe Sammy," He promised, "You hurry and go find that book."

Sam still felt uneasy, but he knew Dean would keep his promise so he disappeared into the library. Shelly followed Dean up the stairs and into Jeremy's room. She felt like she should be nervous, and she was, but there was something she couldn't get out of her head. "Why did you freak out when Sam said his dream was about me?"

"What are you talking about, I didn't freak out."

"I saw that look you gave him."

Dean stood for a moment trying to figure out a way out of this conversation and finally grinned. "I wasn't freaking out about that, I was just surprised that you and Sammy were together. That was something you failed to mention the last time we were alone in this room together." He looked around the bedroom letting his smirk spread even wider, "In fact I'm pretty sure you're the only girl that's ever tried both flavors."

Shelly stared at Dean confused until she fully grasped his meaning and then her face turned bright red. Dean laughed, but when he stopped the laughter continued to fill the room, in a much different tone of voice. Dean and Shelly were both on alert instantly at the sound of the familiar evil laugh.

Shelly began to tie the end of her rope to the leg of a large solid oak armoire while Dean kept watch on the closet doors. "Come on you freaky little bastard, it's playtime." He whispered as the closet door clicked ajar and creaked slowly open. "I see you." he smirked when a pair of glowing yellow eyes became visible in the vast darkness of the boy's closet.

Suddenly the eyes vanished and Dean only had enough time to blink before Shelly gasped as she was pulled into the armoire behind her. Dean whirled around just in time to see the door slam shut. He dashed across the room and tried to open the door but it wasn't going to budge. "Shelly!" he screamed as he pounded.

Dean was relieved to hear the pounding returned from the inside, but the sheer terror in Shelly's voice as she called his name was making it hard to think clearly. He thought for a moment and after tying the end of the rope tightly around his ankle, he exploded into a fit of wild rage. He began thrashing the room around him, smashing anything and everything he could find. "Come on you son of a bitch!" He yelled, "Its not her you want, she's a good girl! Why don't you come after someone who deserves it!"

Dean found a baseball bat leaning against Jeremy's toy shelf. He picked it up and began swinging fiercely at the toys sending them about the room in pieces. "Jeremy's going to be pretty upset when he comes home and finds these broken! You'd better come out and stop me!"

A strong wind began to blow about the room and Dean grinned when he realized that his plan was working. He began taking books of the shelf and ripped the pages from them, laughing as he went. "I've never liked reading all that much, but I'd bet a smart little kid like Jeremy probably loves it."

Dean picked up another book off the shelf and smiled at the irony. "There's Something In My Attic?" he read allowed and then flipped open the book. "I'll bet this is your favorite book. I bet you read it to little Jeremy before he goes to bed at night."

The wind began to grow stronger and the laughing turned into a fierce growl. Dean looked around the room again and then flipped the page of the book. "Aww what a cute little monster. There's no way you're as cute as he is, are ya? I bet you're a nasty looking son of a bitch. That's why Jeremy's so afraid of you isn't it?" Dean looked back at the book in his hands, "Since you won't be needing this anymore... I bet it pisses you off that Jeremy doesn't want to play with you anymore."

Dean ripped the pages from the book one by one and the evil eyes appeared in the doorway of the closet one more time. Dean stared them down without a hint of fear. "Come on." He challenged, "Come and get me!"

The creature suddenly lunged from the closet with so much force that it knocked Dean off his feet, sending him smashing into the armoire and then to the floor. "Sam!" he screamed as loud as he could but his voice was barely audible over the noise of the wind.

The creature sank its teeth into Dean's shoulder and began thrashing at his body with his razor claws, forcing his to scream out in pain. Dean wrestled with the creature, trying to get it off of him, but it was quick and powerful and left a new cut on his body with every move it made.

Sam burst into the room holding an old dusty book in his hands. "I think I found one." He was saying as he entered the room but stopped mid sentence at the sight of his brother wrestling the bogart and bleeding all over the place. "Dean!"

"I got him Sammy!" Dean screamed as he struggled, "Hurry up and do it!"

Sam glanced at his brother again and then rushed to the closet squirting it with holy water. He held up a silver cross and began to chant an old Latin prayer. "Praecipio tibi, quicumque es, spiritus immunde, et omnibus sociis tuis hunc Die famulumobsidentibus: ut per mysteria incarnationis, passionis, resurrectionis, et ascensionis Domini nostri Jesu Christi, per missionem Spiritus Sancti."

As Sam began to spout his command of departure, the creature spun around, tearing painfully deep into Dean's skin. At the mention of the name of God it squealed a wretched scream and leapt at Sam's back with all its might, knocking him forward into the closet. Dean scrambled to his feet, wiping the blood from his face as the closet door began to close. "I don't think so!" He muttered as he dove across the floor, stopping the door with his forearm. "You're not getting my brother!"

Dean's hand grabbed Sam's foot just before he could be pulled fully into the vast darkness. "Dean!" Sam yelled, "I got this! You have to finish the exorcism!"

"If I let go you disappear and the damn thing gets away."

"He'll pull us both in."

Dean glanced down at the rope that was now tearing into his ankle. It hurt like hell, but looked like it would hold. "I got it covered!" He yelled, "Can you reach the book?"

Sam looked down and reached for the book but the monster jumped on him again, digging his claws into the wounds that were already on his chest. Sam screamed as fresh trails of blood stained his clothes. "Sammy!" Dean yelled reaching for the salt-filled pistol in his pants.

Sam saw his brother take aim and yelled, "No! Dean, you can't shoot him! He has to be here for this to work!"

Dean gritted his teeth in frustration and tried to reach for the book without letting go of Sam. Sam reached to his ankle where he kept a small silver blade. It wouldn't kill the devil, but it would sure hurt like hell. He grabbed the knife and took a swing surprising the monster with the pain it caused. He let out another painful scream and tried to run away but Sam caught it by the leg.

The air in the room stopped swirling about and the force that had been keeping the armoire closed vanished as the creature now fought for its escape. Shelly came tumbling out of the armoire and gasped at the sight of the bloody boys hanging out of the closet by only a rope. "Shelly!" Dean screamed, "Get the book!"

Shelly dashed for the book and began flipping the pages. "Where?"

"Page 67!" Sam shouted, "Read it word for word!"

Shelly turned to the page and began nervously reciting the text. "Praecipio tibi, quicumque es, spiritus immunde, et omnibus sociis tuis hunc Die famulumobsidentibus: ut per mysteria incarnationis, passionis, resurrectionis, et ascensionis Domini nostri Jesu Christi, per missionem Spiritus Sancti."

"Faster!" Sam shouted as the monster struggled with even more force.

"Et per adventum ejusdem Domini as judicium, dicas mihi nomen tuum, diem, et horam exitus tui, cum aliquo signo:"

Dean's hand slipped and he caught Sam's ankle by the cuff of his pant leg but it ripped under the pressure. In a single moment Sam disappeared into the darkness along with the monster and the slack on the rope loosened. "SAM!" Dean screamed, terror taking over his mind, "SAM!"

Tears filled Shelly's eyes at the sound of Dean's cry, but she continued to read the last few lines, praying that it would work. "Et un mihi Die ministro licet indigno, prorsus in omnibus obedias: neque hanc creaturam Die, vel circumstantes, aut eorum bona ullo modo offendas!"

As she finished the words the echo of the creature's scream sounded so loudly it shook the walls. The wind howled about the room blowing the debris in every direction and then, in a sudden blinding flash of light, everything was still. "Sam!" Dean screamed as he struggled to free himself of the rope, "Sammy!"

He looked into the closet where an endless sea of nothingness had turned into a pile of toys and clothes, and he screamed for his brother once more. He heard a slight groan and then Sam pushed himself to a sitting position. "Well that takes care of that." He grunted, holding his hand over his bleeding chest.

"Oh God Sammy!" Dean groaned, reaching for his own wounded shoulder, "Don't you ever scare me like that again, you hear me?"

"Sorry Dean, but you're not going to get rid of me that easy." Sam laughed and then winced because it hurt to do so.

Shelly, who was still a bit shell shocked, pushed her way into the closet and finally breathed when she saw Sam. She rushed to his side tripping over something as she went and all three of them paused when they heard a soft moan. They all glanced at one another and then began sifting through the junk on the floor. "Brent!" Shelly screamed when she recognized the frail, tattered boy curled up on the floor beneath her.

"Help me get him up." Dean said exchanging mystified glances with Sam.

The boy was in really bad shape, cuts all over his body and beaten to what looked like the near end of his life, but he was alive. Sam and Dean gently helped the boy to his feet and practically carried him out of the room. They got him safely in the passenger seat of the impala and as the car sped out of the driveway in the direction of the nearest hospital, Sam smirked. "Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"You still think fairies are hot?"

Hours later after Shelly, Sam and Dean finished giving their statements to the local authorities, they stood anxiously when the doctor approached them. "Well it looks like you kids found that boy just in time." The man smiled cheerfully, "He's stable now and it looks like he'll make a full recovery."

All three of them breathed a giant sigh of relief and hugged each other cheerfully. Mitch and Karen joined the group with tears in their eyes. "I don't know how I can ever thank you." Karen cried, pulling Sam into her arms while Mitch hugged Dean.

Sam simply smiled because there really were no words appropriate for the occasion and when Karen pulled away he asked one more question. "How's Jeremy doing?"

Karen spilled more tears and wrapped her arms around Sam again. "He's going to be just fine." She cried, "He's not even scared anymore. Whatever that thing was, he said he could feel it when it left. They're going to keep him overnight to be sure, but he should be able to come home tomorrow. He's really anxious to see his brother."

"I'll bet." Sam said, his eyes glowing at the good news.

Sam and Dean said their goodbyes to Mitch and Karen and Shelly walked them outside. She hugged Dean tightly and lightly kissed his cheek as she whispered a sweet, "Thank you."

"We couldn't have done it without you." Dean replied.

Shelly's gaze then turned to Sam and Dean smiled at her one last time. "Bye Shelly. Take care of yourself now."

"You too Dean. Thanks again."

Dean nudged Shelly Sam's direction and then made a quick escape to his car. Shelly looked into Sam's eyes and began to tear up again. "You don't have to go." She whispered.

"Yes I do."

"Sam." Shelly pleaded desperately.

Sam wiped the tears from Shelly's face and gently placed his lips on hers. Shelly lost herself in his kiss no matter how final it felt. Sam pulled away from her and smiled despite the pain in his heart. "Goodbye Shelly."

Sam turned to leave before he had to see any more tears fall from her eyes and as he walked away he spilled a few of his own. He batted them away subtly as he climbed into the car, but he couldn't fool his brother. "We could stay." Dean suggested.

Sam took a moment to catch his breath and then looked at Dean with cold eyes. "No we can't."

"Oh come on Sammy." Dean said, desperately wanting his brother to be happy for once. "Its obvious you still have feelings for her, and you know you're not gonna find another girl like that any time soon."

"You don't get it Dean, I don't want to find another girl like that. Ever."

"You said it yourself, that dream you had last night wasn't a vision, it was just a dream."

"For now."

"So what? You're just going to go your whole life never getting close to anyone?"

"I don't see that I have any other choice."

"Of course you do."

Sam's eyes tried to fill with tears again but he pushed them back, "Dean Jessica is dead because of me. I had those dreams about Shelly a long time ago and it scared the crap out of me. When I had them about Jess I ignored them, not wanting to believe what I knew deep down was true. I don't want Shelly to end up like that."

"Maybe she won't." Dean said softly, knowing he was losing this argument.

"I can't take that chance."

Dean stared at Sam for a minute and deep down in his heart he knew his brother was right. He felt bad for him, but knew there was nothing he could do about it so he sighed and pushed the car into gear. He pulled out of the hospital parking lot and headed out of town without a word. When he pulled back onto the highway in the direction of Detroit Sam sighed. "So where to now?"

"I was thinking Cincinnati." Dean shrugged, "I heard there were some missing kids there that might need our help."


End file.
